The Prophecy
by Nyllewell
Summary: I'm putting my disclaimer here: I do not own Labyrinth. Do not allow a Prophecy's promise to alter your destiny. JS FINISHED!
1. Beginnings

**The Prophecy**

**I**

**Punishable Crimes**

**Chapter 1**

The chamber was cold, and a deathly silence circled around every being, nearly suffocating them. The council sat in a half-moon, their white robes covering their faces, and their identities, from the prying eyes of the crowd. The verdict was plain, the young man in front of them had been found guilty of an unspeakable crime, but the youth was barely paying attention to them.

He had dropped his head the moment they had reentered the court; after catching a few glimpses of their steely gazes he could stand it no longer. Being convicted of a crime he did not commit was unthinkable, inconceivable, but here he was, on trial. He sighed as the bell chimed signaling the court into order.

A councilman, dressed in the ceremonial whites, stood and dropped back his hood. The sharp features, and cruel eyes stared down at the youth, and he waited patiently for the boy to raise his head, but the youth was stubborn, and after a few minutes the councilman realized the boy had no intention whatsoever of acknowledging them, and that would not do.

"Jareth, you _will_ show this court the proper respect and face us as we sentence you." The man's voice was cruel, and stung, and the crowd held their breath for the boy's response.

Jareth thought about not responding, but what would it really accomplish? Everyone already knew him to be stubborn, why waste pride on a moment such as this? His punishment was going to be severe either way, why worsen it by being insubordinate. Irritated for his cowardice, Jareth snapped his head toward the High Council Man and placed such an intimidating mask over his face the councilman inhaled a quick breath.

"Are you ready to precede then, Jareth?"

Jareth shook his head, and turned once more to the crowd, the same people that sneered and taunted him. With outstretched hands he implored them, "I have not done this crime, I have never done anything of this kind, and though I certainly have offenses against me, I did not do this!" He spun back to the council, which watched with weary eyes. "All the magic in this world would support my claim, and yet you do not ask it, you would rather base your opinions on soiled testimony and biased opinions, and well, so be it!" He paused a moment, rather embarrassed at his outburst, and took a second to watch the council. Their faces did not change, their opinions where still the same, and he was doomed. With a trembling sigh, and heavy shoulders, he nodded. "Very well, let me here what my sentence shall be."

Though the High Councilman would never admit it, he was awed by Jareth's behavior in the courtroom. Never had he seen anyone accept their punishment with such grace, perhaps there was even distaste, and the High Councilman knew that Jareth, for all his character traits against him, was a valuable asset to the race. A small smile tugged at his lips, but he quickly suppressed the grin, for this was no laughing matter.

"Very well. Jareth, you have been charged with the kidnapping and killing of a mortal child, and though your plea of "Not guilty" was noted, we have had several testimonies stating today that you had ample time to accomplish this crime. Several other witnesses have stated that on many different occasions you were spotted returning from the mortal world, is this not true?"

Jareth winced. So the council planned on using a legitimate crime he had committed to convict him of this one. Jareth just sighed, "It is true that I often visit the Aboveground without permission," the crowd roared at this outrage, but Jareth shrugged and kept his eyes on the council, "I have done this many times, and only _now_ has there been a death, and it was not on my part."

The High Councilman waved the crowd silent and stared down at the boy. "Regardless of past crimes, it is this one that has been brought before us. We have found you guilty, Jareth."

Those words, he had expected them, had even tried to prepare for them, but the finality of his councilman's tone nearly broke him into tears. The assembly laughed and cheered at his demise, and all Jareth could do was look down at his leather boots. He had not really expected much, had really expected to be convicted, but the truth hurt like hell. A small tear escaped his eye and he angrily brushed it away. Instead, he straightened his back and faced the council. "Very well," he was more than pleased his voice didn't crack, "what shall be my punishment then?"

A quiet hush fell on the crowd, and all held their breath. The High Councilman sat, and another, to his side, stood and dropped the hood. Beneath that white robe stared a woman's face, smooth, and strong, with mismatched eyes, with a thin frown scowling at him. Jareth forced himself not to cry, and not run to that woman; it was unfair to have his own mother sentence him, even if that was her right to do as the Councilwoman, but his own mother…He met her eyes, and she met his with no mercy at all.

"Jareth," she spat his name, "we have decided to banish you from here." Swallowing, Jareth nodded slowly. Banishment was better than death. The Councilwoman continued without thought of her son's plight, "The desert to the south of here has long been a hotly debated issue among the royalty, for though none wish to rule it, they all wish to own it. We have solved this matter by granting it to you." Jareth's eyes lit up for a moment. Was this banishment, or was he getting another chance. His mother's cruel laughter shattered all optimistic outcomes. "You shall rule there, Jareth, in a magnificent castle, in the middle of a terrible Labyrinth that shall be your prison, and your only friend. The stipulations of your punishment shall go as follows; One: You shall not be permitted to venture outside of that Labyrinth, but whatever you do within its borders is up to you. Two: You shall not have any contact with us after this trial, for you are dead to us, you do not exist. Three:" and this time she lowered her voice so only Jareth and the immediate councilmen around her could hear, "try not to go insane, son."

That was all he remembered for quite some time. Slowly, like the beginning drops of a down poor, his thoughts returned, and with them, his current predicament. He sat on the floor, a wonderfully shiny floor, in the middle of an awfully quiet throne room; bereft of color, of life, of sound, and of freedom. His mother's voice echoed into his head and he brought his hands to cover his ears. So this was to be his existence; a lonely king, in a desolate desert, trapped inside a castle? The pain welled inside of him; threatened to overcome him, and he did the only thing he could possibly think of…he cried.

Chapter 2

Time was of no consequence in that barren labyrinth. The days came and went, years passed, but time did not affect the king that sat sadly on his bitter throne. Early in his "reign", the boredom and silence had taken its toll, he did not fight his loneliness anymore, he did not reminisce his days as a youthful, if not disobedient, boy; in fact, he hardly recalled his life at all, for surely this façade was no life.

He sighed and shifted uncomfortably in the stone throne and threw a leg over the arm rest, looking very disinterested at his empty throne room, and then, very quietly a whisper reached out to him. He closed his eyes and felt the voice wrap around him, small tendrils caressed his face and pulled him to stand. The voice was so small, he could barely make out the words, but he wished to hear more, any sound was better than the continual silence or the sound of his breathing. Straining to hear the words, a small child's voice finally focused into comprehension.

"I wish you did not exist, I wish you were anywhere but here," the litany continued and Jareth was more than curious as to why he was hearing this morbid request. "I wish you were dead," the onslaught continued, and Jareth sneered in disgust. Who would wish such horrible things? He concentrated on finding the source, but the signal was so weak. Finally latching on the to the voice's source, Jareth gaped at the origins. This child, this pleading, cruel child, was Aboveground. His mouth dropped and then Jareth smirked. Of course, it _would_ be the voice of a child _Aboveground_ that Jareth heard; it was only a damned child that got him into this mess to begin with. He sighed, wishing he could ignore the child, but the voice was persistent, aggravating the king to no end, forcing Jareth to finally shout, "Enough!"

The strength to speak winded him, and he leaned on the floor to catch his breath. Had it really been that long since he spoke? He found he could not give himself an accurate estimate of how long he had sat on that throne of nothingness. The child's voice would not dissipate, and Jareth growled a low, deep growl that shook the foundation. "If that child will not stop of his own account, I will _make _him stop." He stood from the floor slightly dusting his clothes and smirked, "After all, they all _think_ I stole a child, why not make false true?

And so Jareth, in his utter boredom, found a way to escape the Labyrinth and the Underground, and to spread his wings to fly, even if the chain was still attached. He took those children wished away; he took them and kept them, and was at first horrified when their precious little bodies changed from soft pink hues, to the thick, leathery hide of the goblins. He had no control over their transformation, nor did he want any. The sounds that they brought with them were a welcome distraction to the silence, and he found he now had subjects, even if he did not exert much will on them, they were still his goblins.

It was not much later that he decided to allow the more pathetic humans, the ones that begged and pled and cried for their siblings' return, a way to earn the baby back. They would run the Labyrinth. His Labyrinth, which he hadn't given a second thought to in those many years, would finally find a use. Though he found joy in little, and was cruel to his subjects, Jareth began to live again, but he still was trapped inside his own shell. He refused his emotions access to his body, he steeled himself towards the lonely truth that he shall always be alone, even with the horde of goblins, he would remain alone.

And then there was Sarah. She had caught his attention once before by play acting in the park. That old, red book she loved mimicked his life so well, but he was not responsible for it; just amused. Many days he had sat in his owl form gazing at the girl, not really understanding what it was he was feeling, not even realizing he _was _feeling. He did recognize a longing though, a longing to maybe belong. When she stupidly wished her brother away he was ecstatic, for now she was his…but his life never went as planned, and this was no exception. She was so vibrant, and electric, he had not really expected her to beat him, in fact, he had not expected to remember her name, mortals were rarely important enough to remember, but she had struck a cord in his cold, dead, heart. He had meant what he had said to her, over and over again, but at the time, did not understand what he was saying. How could he? He had sworn no emotion would rule over him, but the girl had won his Labyrinth, an oddity in itself, and had made Jareth reflect on his self and what he had become, and he was thoroughly disgusted.

After she returned to her realm, and celebrated with her new friends, his "subjects", Jareth flew home, and upon landing on his stone window began laughing. Not a bitter laugh, or a cruel laugh, but a real laugh. It was a laugh that expressed happiness at having found something valuable, and that was exactly how Jareth had felt. That bright eyed girl had reminded him how to feel, and that joy flowed through him, overwhelmed him until all he could do was laugh. She may have defeated the Labyrinth, but Jareth was positive, for once, he came out better.

Chapter 3

The council sat solemnly at the wooden table, dressed in their casual green cloaks rather than the ceremonial whites. The stone room was encased in such a think darkness, the windows were shaded, and only a small candle in the middle of the table glowed; flickering strange oranges and blacks on the frowning faces. The reason for this secret meeting settled uneasily with many of them, but they were all required to attend, for they planned on amending a punishment set years before. Before beginning though, the High Councilman must appear, and the messenger had informed them he would be rather late, so the council of eight sat quietly and tried to ease their fidgeting. All expect one. She sat straight and her eyes focused on the glowing candle; the light reflecting eerily in the mismatched gaze.

The tension was rising, and many thought the silence would destroy them, but the door opened and the aging High Councilman entered looking ragged and tired. Many of the other council members were aware of his worsening conditions, but seeing him looking so old frightened them, and they kept their eyes on his form as he sat at the head of the table.

"Well, so here we are." He began with out preamble. The council straightened in their seats and began taking deep breaths again. "We all know our purpose for this meeting?" Satisfied by the nodding and confirmations, the High Councilman turned his attention to the councilwoman by his side staring blankly at the glowing candle. "Tell me, Councilwoman," he began smoothly, "do you wish to continue, or shall we excuse you from these procedures."

The woman snapped her eyes towards the High Councilman and laughed a haughty laugh, "I sentenced him once before, obviously not well enough. This time, there will be _no_ mistakes."

A small councilwoman cleared her voice, "Why are we re-sentencing him, Sir?" The council slowly turned to her, some faces angry, some curious like she. "He has obeyed our previous rules, which we all doubted he would. Jareth has not honestly broken any of the rules to which he was bound." The councilwoman with odd eyes glared at her and she shivered, but did not break down. "I also think it unwise to hold any sort of discussion without his presence." Many voices rose to agree, but the bright eyed councilwoman stood and pounded a fist on the table.

"Enough!" The room quieted and turned their gazes to her imposing figure. She reveled in the power she held over them. Power was everything, after all. She lifted a delicate brow and began walking around the table, stalking the other members. "Would you wait for him to take _your_ children? Wait for him to _kill_ again?" The fear in their eyes was evident, and she could taste their fright on her tongue. "No? That is why we must punish him adequately."

"Sit down, Councilwoman." The High Councilman's voice was not loud, but there was no room for negotiation in the command, so the councilwoman angrily sat back in her seat. Jareth, always Jareth. That boy never ceased to amaze him. Even when banished from their world he was still a debated topic. The High Councilman smiled inwardly. He had no doubt that Jareth would bend the rules they had set around him, but his finding the passage to the Aboveground by changing forms was the most clever thing he had ever heard of. Now, the banished boy was a king, a king of goblins, of several different subjects, and Jareth managed to have contact with the humans from the Aboveground once again. Would Jareth never cease to amaze him? He highly doubted it, but turning his attention back to the council he shook his head sadly. "This procedure shall be different than before. All we need is a majority to re-sentence Jareth." He watched the heads nod and sighed, "Very well. All who believe Jareth was punished too lightly send your votes." Six ballots floated from six council member's outstretched hands and the High Councilman sighed. Six of the nine had voted. The decision was made, and he fought from lowering his head. The boy _had_ been punished enough by his standards, but the majority had spoken. He stood slowly, and took a ragged breath. "I did not vote in this, and I will not participate in the punishment." Shocked members gaped at him and rose to question, but the High Councilman raised a hand. "No. Jareth has been punished one too many times by _my_ hand. This is your decision, now deal with it." He turned and left the room, fists clinched and jaw tight.

The Councilwoman laughed as the High Councilman left, "He is an old fool!" The council members stared at her and not for the first time questioned her sanity. "Listen to me, Jareth is a wildcard, a weakness in our existence, but none of us are truly strong enough to destroy him, for he has grown powerful in his isolation." The group just nodded, but cringed when the woman's eyes took a dangerous tint. "Together though, now that is a different story." She smiled, but it was less than comforting and the members shivered. "Let me tell you what I have planned…"

**II**

**The New Babe**

Chapter 4

**Years Later…**

Sarah rocked the baby in her arms around the clean hospital suite and cooed gently at the blue-eyed beauty that slept in her arms wrapped in a fuzzy pink blanket. The little girl was adorable, and Sarah was overcome. It had been quite some time since a baby had been in her world, for Toby was certainly not a baby anymore. Sarah nuzzled the little girl, which elicited a giggle from the woman lying exhaustedly in the bed.

"Stop that, Sarah," the woman teased in a soft voice. Child birth was certainly _not_ an easy experience, and though hours had passed her body was still recuperating from the ordeal. Sarah nuzzled the baby again and the woman laughed, cringing slightly as the sore stomach muscles tightened. "Sarah! You're going to have her spoiled before she can even smile!"

Sarah just stuck her tongue out, "Of course, Carol! That's the whole point of being a godmother." She smiled and placed the sleeping babe down in the cradle next to Carol's exhausted form. "You should get some rest, you look awful."

"Ha!" replied Carol. "Let's see how hot you look after giving birth!"

"No thank you." Sarah sat gently on the bed and hugged her closest friend. "You did really well today, I'm really proud of you." Carol buried her head in Sarah's shoulder. "At least someone is." Sarah smiled and stroked Carol's messy, mousy hair. Carol's family had been less than pleased when she had turned up pregnant, especially when Carol couldn't pinpoint the father. "I don't remember sleeping with anyone, honestly!" Sarah remembered Carol crying out. Her friend was far from the angel, more like the town slut, but Sarah loved her anyway, she had even mention abortion, to which Carol vehemently disagreed to. "I will not punish a baby for something _I_ have done!" Her will was ironclad, and Sarah had promised to support her decision anyway possible, which led to her rocking her friend in the hospital room hours after helping Carol give birth.

Sarah yawned, "I have to go, Hun," Carol shook her head, but Sarah laughed and gently pried herself away from the woman. "I'll come back tomorrow, I promise, but I have work tomorrow, and the kiddies will not understand if I'm half asleep in the classroom."

Guilt, Sarah was using guilt, and though that made her feel a little guilty, she knew the guilt would work on Carol, who pouted but rested back on her pillow. With a sigh she shook her head, "I know Sarah, I know…but I'm scared…"

"Scared of what?" She smiled softly, "You'll do fine, and you can always call a nurse if you get nervous. Those nurses know more than I do, that's for sure!" Carol still looked sad, but Sarah could not stay at all, they both knew it. "I'll come after class, ok?" Carol nodded reluctantly and Sarah gathered her purse. "Love ya!"

Carol smiled wide, "Love you too!" She called to the retreating form before nestling down in her bed and allowing much needed rest to claim her.

Sarah walked out of the quiet hospital wing feeling quite pleased with her self. Carol had done a wonderful job, and the baby girl was just beautiful. Estimating her schedule for the next day, she imagined she'd be able to return around four. She sighed, tomorrow was testing day for her junior high students, and they would not pleased, and would probably not be very obedient, but she was used to unruly brothers, goblins, and kings, she could handle anything. She stopped cold, a few scant feet from the hospital exit and scrunched up her nose. What in the world possessed her to think of _that_ place? It was a memory that she had buried deep in her mind, and if she was honest with herself, her heart as well, but that didn't explain why she suddenly thought of it.

She shrugged and walked out of the hospital, and nearly ran back in. The air was freezing, a sharp breeze whipped her hair around and she found herself rubbing her exposed arms for heat. It was the middle of June, why did it feel like the temperature was in the thirties! She shivered and ran to her car, mindful that other people were just as confused and following suit.

**III**

**Ripple in the Underground**

Chapter 5

It was not unheard of for the Goblin King to dream, for dreams can hold the dreamers deepest desires. And it was not unheard of for the Goblin King to dream of a beautifully cruel woman with mismatched eyes to come to him and hold him; nor was it unheard of for the Goblin King to dream of a smiling brown haired beauty by the name of Sarah, it _was_; however, unheard of for the Goblin King to be standing in blood, and not his blood. It swirled around his ankles, and though he was aware of the dream, he was not eager to just stand in the blood, but whenever he raised his boots out of the stickiness the blood rose. A few seconds ago it was at his knees, but it was rising fast, and he was helpless. He tried to wake himself, but a presence was holding him still, wanting him to suffocate in the thick, hot blood.

"Jareth," a voice whispered to him from the darkness, "Jareth, where are you?"

The voice frightened him, not an easy feat, and Jareth remained silent, his mismatched eyes warily watching the rising blood.

"Why do you not answer, Jareth," the voice continued. "I can make it all fade away…"

Jareth shook his head. He did not wish to fade away, he did not wish to remain neck high in blood, blood that was not on his hands, though he felt responsible, but more than anything, he did not wish to remain sleeping! He forced his mind to wake, and he did, but with a start.

He shot up from his bed, sheets clinging to his body; the fire in his room smoldering. He dropped the sheets and suddenly shivered and watched with amazement as his breath came out in wisps of white. He grabbed a robe and pulled it over his bare chest, frowning at his shaking form and walked to the window. The Labyrinth looked strange to him, but he could not pinpoint the source. A freezing wind blew past him and he shivered again and watched with horror as a small white flake floated in through the window and flitted down to the sill.

Jareth stood transfixed for a moment before allowing his mind to truly process the information. A snowflake had just fallen…he looked over the Labyrinth and dropped his jaw. The whole maze was thickly coated in the substance; the moon washed out the color and reflected the eerie white across the Underground. Snow in the Underground? Jareth scoffed at this notion. He resided in a desert; he had not seen snow fall here ever, why should there be snow here now? Something was wrong, something was awfully wrong. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on answers. Why was his Labyrinth covered in snow? And what was that dream? Not many things set Jareth on edge, but at that moment he was feeling very vulnerable, and not enjoying the sensation at all.

With aggravation, Jareth summoned a perfect crystal sphere in his hand and brought it close to his face. "What is happening?" He asked the orb. For a moment the shining crystal revealed nothing, and Jareth was about to crush the insubordinate magic, but suddenly a picture cleared and Jareth peered through to see snow falling on his land. He sighed in disgust, "Yes," he hissed, "I _know_ it is snowing, but _why_ is what I want to know." The image shook, as if to clear itself. The emptiness swirled and sloshed, and Jareth waited rather patiently for any sign of an answer to appear from its depths. His hand began to tighten around the crystal again in frustration, once again the crystal responded to the threat by showing a room full of eight people. Jareth squinted, trying to make out the shapes and gasped aloud as he recognized the green cloth, the cruel faces, and the haughty laugh. Those were his judges. "What are they saying?" The crystal darkened, as if trying to run from the image, but Jareth was fast. He shook the crystal hard and poured his will to the orb, "Let their words pass, or so help me," he realized arguing with a magic crystal looked rather ridiculous, but he was infuriated at the image in front of him. Slowly a voice drifted through the air, gaining volume as the voice spoke on.

"Listen to me, this is what we shall do," his mother spoke quickly, impassioned and Jareth found himself cringing. "We shall weave a spell so wonderful, so powerful, not only will it destroy his life, but it will destroy his land as well…" Suddenly the sound and the image were gone and the crystal sat still in Jareth's trembling hand.

"Show me more," he commanded, but the crystal just gave a small shudder, as if disagreeing. Jareth was outraged, and readied to throw the crystal when he allowed his common sense to return to him. The orb had done what he asked, had given him at least a path, and instead of destroying the crystal, he released the magic and watched the crystal pop out of existence with such evident relief Jareth nearly laughed. But he would have to laugh another time, for now he had a feeling that it was time for him to break his exile and return to his old home.

**IV**

**Eyes**

Chapter 6

Sarah was aware of the eyes following her as she moved silently through her dream. She found herself staring at the gate to the Labyrinth, but something was wrong. She was shivering, and she was cold down to the bone. The once red sky was darkened by thick, black clouds that hung low over her head. The air was crisp and her teeth began to chatter. This was nothing like her first visit, and though she knew it was a dream, she was at a loss as to why she was dreaming the Labyrinth was frozen over. The wind chilled her arms and she rubbed them ferociously, her nightgown offering no protection, all the time quite aware that there were eyes on her. A feeling of pure dread swept over her and she turned to look behind her. Nothing was there, nothing but the ice covering the tree, but the eyes were still following her.

She took a few steps towards the Labyrinth gate and felt as if her soul was being ripped from her body. She suddenly found herself thrown into a room; a beautiful stone room with a roaring fire and an inviting bed, but more importantly she found herself staring straight into the eyes of a man she had not seen in nearly fifteen years. Those eyes, his eyes were always so sad. He seemed to be looking at something far away, and as she was about to speak to him she was ripped from her spot again, and thrown into a new place…a dark place. A place she was vaguely familiar with, but that did not comfort her in the least. An oubliette was always the last place she wanted to be.

The sensation of being watched followed her into this place and Sarah nearly screamed, but a new sensation flowed over her. It was just a dream right? She had control in her dreams, right? She began to wish fervently that she woke, she wished and wished and wished, and slowly she felt her mind slip back into consciences and pull her body from slumber.

The night air was crisp to her lungs, and she huddled closely to the blanket, listening to her breathing and reveling in the fact that she was awake, and in familiar areas. Those eyes were still upon her though, and she was not sure if they belonged to that far away king or not, but one thing was for certain; there would be no sleeping for the rest of the night.

Chapter 7

The double doors leading to the council chambers blasted open with such a raw magnitude of power, six of the council members ducked beneath the table. In a shower of glitter a dark form strode into the room, hair flowing wildly, black cape snapping viscously, and two mismatched eyes swept over the council as he entered. No longer was he a boy set on trial, now he was a king in full glory, in full power, and his anger radiated through the room. Jareth's eyes rested squarely on the High Councilman, who was rather shocked at Jareth's arrival. Shocked, but immensely amused at the same time.

The High Councilman stood and gave a small bow to the imposing King. "Your Highness," he said with a cruel voice, "To what do we owe this honor."

Jareth scowled and he crossed his arms looking quite bored, "I wish to speak to you alone, Sir."

The councilwoman with the cruel eyes that matched his own stood quickly, "You do not belong here, Jareth! You were forbidden entry to the city by the banishment." Jareth looked at his mother with cold calculation. She was powerful, he was much more so, and any fear that he once felt towards her disappeared when he felt the sheer amount of energy he controlled. She had no more power over him.

He took a step towards her, and watched as a glint of fear shaded her eyes. That made him smile at her. "What, not pleased to see me?" He purred as he stalked closer to her, "As of the banishment," he stared at the council and purposefully turned his back on his mother, a motion that infuriated her, "that contract was made null and void by you imposing a new sentence on my head." Jareth paused and enjoyed the shocked council's faces before turning back to the High Councilman. "This is what I wanted to speak to you about."

The High Councilman stared at his council of bumbling idiots, and rested his eyes warily on the fuming expression of the odd eyed beauty. Jareth was brave facing this crowd, especially knowing what he knew. Together they were powerful, but Jareth had them so scared of his magic they remained dumbstruck; which was highly entertaining. He smiled to the king and nodded, "Very well, Jareth, follow me."

Chapter 8

The private chambers of the High Councilman were large, spacious, and decorated with soft leather chairs, dark wood furniture that included several book shelves and a huge desk, which the High Councilman sat behind, easing his way into his comfortable chair, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the pacing king. To say Jareth was mad was an understatement, the High Councilman could feel Jareth's anger cascading off him, and he waited patiently for the king to calm down. A quick turn from Jareth caused a vase in the far corner to shatter, the excess energy causing havoc. The High Councilman laughed aloud, "Come and sit down, Jareth, before you break more of my furniture."

Jareth stopped pacing instantly, and like a child scolded lowered his head as he saw the broken pieces of the vase. He pushed his hand through his hair and lowered himself into one of the leather chairs. "I'm sorry, Addoyn, I'm just at a loss here. How could you allow them to do this?"

The High Councilman stared at Jareth, eyes searching the kings lowered face for answers. Many years ago, centuries possibly, he had stopped his name from being spoken, had hidden his name; none were suppose to know it, but Jareth uttered it like he had known if forever. After a few more minutes, Addoyn realized Jareth had no idea what he had done, and began laughing. Jareth snapped his head forward and glared at the High Councilman. Seeing this, Addoyn raised his hands in peace. "I am not laughing at your situation, Jareth, for I believe it is unjust as well." Jareth's eyes softened and were instead replaced with a curious glint. Addoyn smiled, "Do you realize what you have spoken?"

Jareth, taken aback, thought a few second and rewound their conversation. He had said nothing odd, expect maybe apologizing. He looked up at the High Councilman, meeting his eyes and slightly shook his head. This caused the High Councilman to laugh again and Jareth frowned, "Addoyn, this is not…" his voice trailed off as the man he had known for his whole life as the "High Councilman" finally had a name. "Addoyn?"

Addoyn nodded slowly, "How long have you known my name, Jareth?" Jareth paled noticeably, and Addoyn smiled softly. "It is very strange to hear it uttered after all this time, but I honestly cannot think of any I would want to say it more than you." Addoyn sighed. He was aware that Jareth was watching him, and waiting for a better explanation, but Addoyn did not wish to elaborate. Jareth may be a king, but Addoyn was still entitled to his secrets. Instead, he took a deep breath, "I knew you would be angry about the decision to amend your sentence, how much do you know?"

Jareth clinched and un-clinched his jaw a second before answering, "I asked the magic to show me what was happening to my realm." He met Addoyn's silence and continued, "It is covered with snow; all of it. The Labyrinth does not know how to handle this, and neither do I." He paused and took a deep breath, "I feel there is more to this sentence than a blizzard."

"You are wise to think so," Addoyn replied softly. With a wave of his hand a steaming cup appeared on the desk and he gingerly wrapped his bony fingers around the warmth. "That woman," he continued, "wishes nothing more than to destroy you, odd is it not?" Jareth just looked away. Addoyn watched him for a second more remembering times when Jareth was just a small child playing in his court. Always was he trailing behind his mother, always with adoration in his eyes; he had never seen a child show such love to a parent, and never had he seen such contempt from a mother to a child. "I think she has always been afraid of you, Jareth."

A sigh escaped his lips, and he leaned his head against the rest of the chair, "I've done nothing to her; nothing at all. What spell did she have them weave, Addoyn?" Jareth was tired of dancing in circles around this topic, he wanted answers; he wanted to know the depths of his sentence.

"I was honest when I said I was not part of the sentencing," Addoyn replied regretfully, "and all I can tell is that they have cursed you." He watched Jareth's brows furrow, and another wave of angry energy poured off him. "Perhaps not just you, Jareth, but perhaps the land, and all that you care for." Again he waited and watched to gauge Jareth's reaction. The anger he had felt drained a little replaced by a sort of despair, and Addoyn pitied Jareth more than any other.

"All that I care for?" Jareth balled his fist. "What right do they have?" He stood so quickly the chair was knocked over. "Addoyn, you must help me. They have no right! I never committed that crime; you _must_ believe me."

Addoyn looked over the aggravated king and shook his head, "No Jareth, I do not _have _to believe you," Jareth's face was ashen and Addoyn smirked, "I do though, but there is something you should know about this curse before you go and try to remove it." Jareth righted the chair and sat once more, leaning forward slightly as to not miss one word of his elder's advice. "They evoked powerful magic to cast this spell; and magic that powerful tends to make a life of its own. Do you understand?" Jareth shook his head slowly and Addoyn sighed, "You must find the curse, Jareth; for I believe it has found a form after all these years. That is why the curse is coming into effect now, instead of thirteen years ago when it was cast."

Jareth's eyes hardened at this news. How many times was he going to be punished for something he did not do? How many trials did he have to endure before his freedom was granted? This life was tiring him, exhausting him, draining him, and all he could do was trudge from one disaster to another; all caused by the one being who should be protecting him, loving him. The distaste for his mother was so strong at that moment he could taste it in his mouth. He bowed deeply before the High Councilman, "Thank you, Addoyn. I appreciate all that you have done for me today, and now" he said as he stood fully, "I think I will go speak to my mother."

Addoyn nodded and watched as the rigid form of the Goblin King vanished from his room. He found himself shaking his head at Jareth's words. "I have not done enough for you, Jareth; not nearly enough." The steaming cup was brought to his lips and he sipped it, mindful of the heat.

**V**

**Jareth**

Chapter 9


	2. Jareth

**V**

**Jareth**

Chapter 9

Jareth's second entry to the council chamber was not nearly as spectacular. He merely opened the doors and walked in; sat at the head of the table and glared at his mother, who was gaping like a fish out of water. With a sort of bored expression, he brought one of his gloved hands to his face and began inspecting the leather. The council watched with horror, for Jareth was unpredictable, and that terrified them; all of them save one. She stood staring at her son.

"What do you want, Jareth?" She was not going to let him play games with her, if he wanted to speak, let him speak. It would not be long before he was no longer a problem of hers, and she was feeling tolerable towards him.

A silence fell on the room as the members waited for the Goblin King to respond. Several councilors had already left when Jareth had barged in the first time; the remaining few wished they had left as well. Jareth glanced at the fear in their eyes and sighed, bringing his fist to rest on the table. "I only wish to speak to my mother," that title was venom on his tongue, but he swallowed and forced himself to continue, "The rest of you may leave." Jareth smirked as the old faces practically fled his presence. He watched as the last councilor shut the doors before turning his gaze to his mother. She had sat herself at the other end of the table; both hands placed palm down on the table. "Well, Mother, what have you decided to do to me _this _time?"

Her eyes hardened and she brushed back a stray golden strand of hair, "Do not flatter your self, my son. All that is placed upon you, you deserve."

"Really?" He stood and began walking towards her, stopping a few feet from where she sat and sat on the table, "Mother, I have not done anything to do, why do you choose to punish me so?"

The councilwoman searched the mismatched eyes that matched her own. Was her son trying to connect with her? Trying to evoke some sort of maternal feeling? She laughed aloud, and watched as Jareth recoiled. "Jareth, why are you here? Surely it is not to remember the past."

Jareth shook his head and stood, "What are the depths of this curse that you have placed on me?"

This statement caused her brows to rise. Jareth knew about the curse…that was unforeseen. She had wanted him to remain in the shadows as the spell took effect, stripping him of his desires and of his sanity. She sniffed slightly and shrugged. "It is designed to destroy you, Jareth." His lips pursed and that caused her to laugh again, "Not pleased, my son?"

Before he could control himself, he reached out and grabbed her by the throat, his gloved hand tightening slightly as her eyes widened and she brought her hands to his wrist. "So you enjoy torturing me, mother?" Her lips parted to speak, and he tightened his hold; watching with a sick amount of satisfaction when her eyes wobbled. "And no, I am not pleased. I expect better from my own 'mother'," once again the word was forced from his lips. She began to thrash beneath his grasp, fighting for air, and as much as he wanted to squeeze the life out of her heartless body, he released her, throwing her to the side as he did. Her form racked on the floor as she gasped for the life-giving air flowing into her lungs. Jareth stood, shaking his head, no sympathy in his eyes, for he truly wished her dead. He turned from her and began walking towards the doors. "Goodbye, Mother," was all he said to her trembling form, but he knew the look she was giving him, for his eyes reflected much the same; they both wanted the other dead.

Chapter 10

Sarah grunted as she lugged the stroller up the second flight of stairs to her apartment. Out of all the days, why did the manager choose _today_ to perform maintenance on the elevator; the one day when she was moving her best friend into her spare bedroom? Not to mention that Carol was still too weak to carry anything up the flights, which Sarah understood, but _still_; this was her fourth trip, and she was god awful exhausted. Already several boxes littered her living room floor, and in her hands now were a stroller and a basinet.

She slumped to her couch as she dropped the items on the floor. Her back ached, her shoulders ached, hell, every inch of her ached, but at least she was done. All that was left now was a tired woman with her sleeping baby to make the new home complete. She pushed herself off the sofa and tiptoed her way through the boxes to the intercom at her door. "Hey Al!" She said pushing the button.

There was a small hiss and then a reply, "Yes, Ms. Williams?"

"Is the elevator fixed yet? I have someone down there that can't walk the stairs." She waited a moment as the com broke off. Her door man, a round fellow by the name of Albert, tolerated her much more than he actually liked her, but she liked the man, and waited patiently for him to return. The com hissed again, "Yeah, he says it's done. Want them to send her up?"

"Yes please!" She replied and let the com go dead. She turned her sights to the boxes on the floor of her spacious living room and shuddered. There was no way she could just leave them there, cluttering her space. Sighing, she began picking them up and placing them in the spare bedroom. She smiled, not really a spare anymore. Carol's new bedroom was lively and bright. The walls were pristine white, the canopy bed was covered with a rose-patterned comforter, and lace curtains covered the window. Sarah loved this room; loved all the prissiness surrounding it. Unfortunately, she found that she couldn't stomach so many flowers, and had replaced the set in her room with a different one. But the room was lovely. She smiled and set the boxes down in corner and resumed pushing, scooting, or carrying the remaining boxes.

The front door opened just as Sarah finished moving the boxes and she watched as Carol walked in, the sleeping baby resting in her arms peacefully. "Well, welcome home!" She greeted.

Carol smiled a little sadly, "Thanks again for doing this, Sarah…you really didn't have to."

Sarah ushered her in and sat Carol down on the sofa. "Don't be silly; you're as much as my family as Toby. Now, would you like anything to drink after all your hard work?" She asked mischeiviously, and Carol laughed. "Because I'm parched," Sarah continued and walked around the corner to her kitchen. She poured a glass of water from a chilled pitcher from the fridge and returned to her living room, watching as Carol gazed lovingly at the child in her arms. "You did the right thing," she uttered sitting beside her friend.

Carol looked up, "Oh, I know; I just hope I don't screw things up for her." Sarah laughed and Carol frowned, "Hey! That's not funny! How would you feel knowing your mother was the town slut?"

Sarah gave her a sideways glance and shook her head, "Carol, mother _was_ the town slut." She laughed at the thought though. She never really got along with her mother nowadays, for she was too busy off living a life that had no room for her daughter. But Sarah just shrugged, some things were just meant to be, and the hole left by her mother was constantly being replaced by something else.

Carol cringed, "I'm sorry, Sarah. I didn't mean it, really!" Sarah hugged her friend. "Don't worry about it, Carol, really." She stood and looked over her appearance with disgust. "I'm going to take a shower. Your bed is already if you want to lie down for a while." Carol just nodded, still looking guilty at the words she had spoken. "Really, Carol; what's said is said, there's no harm done, though." Sarah turned her back on her friend and furrowed her brows and she approached the bathroom. What's said is said? Was she a glutton for punishment, or was there a reason the Labyrinth was invading her life again. She shook the thoughts from her head and started the shower.


	3. The Child

**VI**

**The Child**

Chapter 11

And a few weeks flew by Sarah, she hardly noticed the time. In between classes, and a newly vocal baby, she didn't get much sleep. Carol was a wonderful mother, and Sarah sometimes envied the precious baby; who Carol had named Deirdre. Sarah liked the name instantly, for it fit the baby girl like a glove.

Sarah was sitting on her couch, enjoying a few minutes of silence while Carol was off at the store, and Deirdre was sleeping peacefully in her little crib in her mother's flower room. Sarah wasn't use to having to share her space, and she had always been very private, but Carol had needed a place to stay, and Sarah had a spare bedroom, and at the time it seemed a good idea. But lately, at night, Sarah had the feeling that she was never alone in her room. She had never quite got rid of that sensation of being watched, and as such, her sleep intake was reduced drastically, so this moment of rest was greatly appreciated.

A small noise from Carol's room drew her attention, and she listened intently to recognize the sound. She smiled as she heard Deirdre squirming about in her crib, and she stood to retrieve the child. Deirdre never cried when she awoke from a nap, a quality that Sarah appreciated. As she entered the bedroom, Sarah's eyes fell on a very strange sight; Deirdre was standing in her crib, arms holding the railing; eyes focused on the door. Sarah inhaled a deep breath and cautiously entered the room. Babies weren't suppose to be standing at three weeks…hell, they weren't suppose to be standing until they were a year or so. She swallowed the lump in her throat and reached to pick up the baby girl, who smiled happily as she was lifted into her godmother's arms. Sarah licked her lips and glanced down at the girl, "What is going on?" She asked to no one, but the intelligent gleam in the baby's eyes sent shivers down her spine.

Feeding the child proved more confusing. After preparing the bottle, Deirdre reached for it, little baby hands grasping the air for the sustenance. Sarah didn't know what to do. She looked at the bottle, and then down to the little girl with the bright blue eyes and handed over the bottle. Much to her surprise, Deirdre grasped the bottle and began sucking; a reproachful look in her eye for making her wait so long. Sarah got a little dizzy and sat at the kitchen table. Babies were not suppose to be holding bottles this early…they weren't suppose to do anything of this sort until much older. Something was different, something was odd…

Her attention was split away from the baby as her front door opened and Carol entered the apartment. Sarah heard her put her belongings down in the hallway and whistle, "Sarah, it is _freezing_ out there; I wonder what in the world is going on?" She talked as she walked down the hall and continued upon entering the kitchen, "I mean, the weather man said June set record lows, but its July now, and he's talking a snow storm! A snow storm! Can you believe that?" Carol stood in front of Sarah now, disbelief on her face. She waited for Sarah to reply, but Sarah's eyes were unfocused, and Carol waved a hand in front of her face. "Hello? Earth to Sarah? What's wrong?" She waited as Sarah slowly lifted a hand and pointed to the baby seat resting on the kitchen table. She followed with her eyes and gasped when she saw Deirdre holding and nursing her own bottle. "What?...How?..." She looked to Sarah for answers, but Sarah just shrugged. "She's not supposed to be doing that, is she?" Carol asked with a whisper. She choked as Sarah shook her head. "Is she…well, is she alright?"

Sarah heard the anxiety in her friend's voice and sighed, "As far as I can tell, she's fine." She smiled, "Maybe you should make a doctor's appointment though, you know, just to make sure things are okay." Carol nodded and sat by her daughter, who pulled the bottle away to grin at her mother and then resumed sucking.

Sarah shuddered; she needed to get out of the apartment. She didn't feel safe around the child, and she couldn't pinpoint the reason why, but she needed to get out. She stood quickly and nearly ran for the door. Grabbing her coat and purse she fled her apartment, and watched the door close behind her as she heard Carol's questioning voice from the other side, but she couldn't stay, she needed to leave. She turned and ran down the stairs and out into the open, frigid air.

She walked aimlessly around the town she had known her whole life. She even waved and said hello to the few other brave souls who ventured outside. The weather was so strange; she could not remember another single time when the temperature was below thirty in the middle of July. It confused and frightened her; she remembered the frozen Labyrinth and could not help but wonder if it was somehow all connected. She pulled her fur coat closer to her body and shivered; her mind wondering about. It had been fifteen years since she had ventured into the Labyrinth and defeated the king to win back her brother. It all seemed so bittersweet though. At fifteen she hadn't really cared who she had to step on to get her way; but at thirty, well, she was a little regretful now for crushing the plain hope in that man's eyes. But as he himself once told her, "What's said is said," and she accepted the part she had played.

Her feet let her to her park, her favorite of all places and she glanced around in amazement. The entire area was covered with snow; the river was frozen, and though it was beautiful, it was eerie as well. Her eyes focused and she felt a new determination. Something not of this world was going on, something beyond any of their comprehension; and though she didn't know if _he_ was responsible, he was the only other-worldly being she knew, and she planned to summon him. She glanced around the park and swallowed, but not here. She tried to tell herself it wasn't fear, but the truth was, she was terrified of calling the Goblin King, and she wanted to be on her own ground for the confrontation.

Chapter 12

The opportunity to summon his majesty arrived a few days later. Carol had to stay late at her job, all night possibly, and she had asked Sarah if she minded watching Deirdre. Sarah had not voiced any of her concerns about the baby to Carol, and naturally agreed, but now, as she sat in her room, listening to the silence, she wasn't so sure. Deirdre slept in her mother's room, but Sarah was still frightened, there was something different about the baby's calculated looks, and unpredictable movements. Two days ago she began crawling. The doctors thought she was a miracle, but Sarah sensed something else, something ominous.

Her room was dark; she sat in a corner facing the window, for that was the way he had entered before. She was going to call him tonight, honestly she was…she just needed to gather up her courage. She sat in silence and stared at the window. She _was_ going to call him…

Jareth flew through the cold air Aboveground, searching blindly to an answer. He sensed a strange energy here, one that he had never felt before, but it was elusive and he found himself flying in circles more than in any direction. The weather here puzzled him as well. Everywhere he flew he seemed to be followed by the same blizzard conditions of the Labyrinth. That worried him. Whatever spell they had placed on him was strong enough to affect both worlds, and he needed to stop it before it progressed. As he landed quietly on a snow covered branch a summoning reached his ears. His owl form cocked his head and blinked the huge owl eyes. Whoever was summoning him was not wishing for a child to be taken, and that was unheard of. It was a direct wish to speak to _him_, and there was something familiar about the call…something out of a dream.

He took to flight towards this new call; a little irritated that who ever called him had chosen _this_ moment, for he had rather important things to do. The apartment complex loomed before him, and he pinpointed the call to a second story apartment. There was a window open, as if waiting for him, and Jareth tread lightly. He did not like the feel of this, his instincts were screaming of a trap, but nonetheless, he landed on the widow sill, transformed into his human form, and lightly jumped into a darkened room. His eyes darted to and fro, looking for any sign of movement, any tell tale sign that someone was waiting for him. At first, he thought he was mistaken, perhaps no one _was_ in the room, but suddenly he heard an intake of breath from the far corner; out of site by the bed.

This angered him. How dare this person, who summoned him, try to hide after doing so! It was not a game to call upon the Goblin King. He crossed his arms and entered the room. "Show yourself; I know you are there."

There was a moment of silence before a small voice whispered, "I didn't think you'd come."

Jareth rolled his eyes. Why was it that _that_ was the first thing out of anyone's mouth when he was concerned? "Oh really?" He mocked, "Why bother calling me then?" The figure remained silent and in the shadows and Jareth scowled, "I do not have time for this!" He said more angrily than he really felt. There was something familiar here, a scent, a memory, he was curious as to who this was. He softened his gaze, "Who are you?"

This question elicited a reaction. The figure moved from the corner and stepped forward a little, "You don't remember me?" There was wistfulness in her tone; Jareth could tell it was a woman at least. A small sigh escaped her lips and she stood fully in the moonlight of her bedroom. The silver streaks cascaded down upon her porcelain skin; her long black hair swayed softly in the breeze, and her brown eyes shimmered.

Jareth nearly collapsed. "Sarah?" He breathed. Her eyes lit up as he said her name and she smiled softly, "So you _do_ remember me?" His Sarah, his Sarah called on him, after all these years. He did not know what to do, did not know how to act, it seemed like such a long time since he had spoken to her, and those were not very fond memories. "Why were you hiding from me?" He asked suddenly; that act bothered him, why was she still afraid of him?

She moved to her bed and took a deep breath. "I was…well, I was afraid." She looked up into those beautiful eyes; the blue was so clear tonight. "We honestly didn't leave on such great terms," she muffled. To her surprise he laughed; and not a cruel laugh, a genuine laugh she had never heard from him before. As she looked over him she could tell quite a few things had changed. He was still sporting the most outlandish hair style, but the soft layers framed his face so, that she didn't really mind. His wardrobe was a little different. Soft black pants swished slightly with his movements, and his white shirt flowed, but the gloves were still there, as well as the boots. His expression was changed as well; all the time she had seen him in the Labyrinth he was always mocking her, always taunting her, but now, he was just looking at her intently.

"Was there a reason you called me, Sarah?" Sarah nodded, and licked her lips, but much to his annoyance remained silent. This was no time for him to be conversing with a mortal girl, not with the problems that lie in front of him; though honestly, all he wanted to do was sit on that bed with her. Sarah was concentrating on the floor and Jareth sighed, "Sarah," he said sternly, "either talk to me, or let me leave, for I _am _busy."

Swallowing, Sarah nodded hesitantly. She was so brave a few seconds before, why did he always make her feel so confused. But he was here now, and if he could shed some light on the situation, she was going to ask her questions before the time past. "It's snowing here," she began albeit lamely. He nodded; he had noticed that too. "Why is it snowing here?"

A brow rose over his darker eye and Jareth smirked, "Why do you think _I _should know the answer?" He did, or at least he thought he did, but why did she assume he did was what he wanted to know.

She noticed in his eyes a look she had seen before in his gaze. He was keeping something from her. She stood and walked over to him, staring him in the eyes, "Because you _do_, don't you?" It wasn't really a question; she could read him, and she grinned when he stepped back a step. "What's going on?" She asked determined.

For a very long time he didn't answer, didn't even give a sign that he remembered she was in the same vicinity, but she was patient. The fact that he didn't disappear after she asked the question meant he was considering telling her. At least, that is how her logic worked. She sat again, and watched curiously as the Goblin King paced. His title was all she ever referred to him as; did she even know his name? Hoggle had said it once long ago as they climbed the ladder. She strained her memory. "You've got to understand my position," her old friend's voice reached her ears, "I'm a coward, and Jareth frightens me." Yes, she nodded to herself; that was his name. She couldn't believe she had let herself forget it. He continued to pace and Sarah found herself amused, "Jareth, stop it, you're making me dizzy. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad, right?" He stopped instantly, and her blood froze as his intense gaze fell upon her. There was no mirth in his face, her joke had fallen flat. His eyes frightened her, she could see the despair there, and she shivered. "Ok, tell me what it is, what is going on?"

He thought about denying the request; just disappearing from sight and leaving everything unanswered. It sounded like something he would do to anyone else, but not to Sarah. He still couldn't find it in himself to deny her anything, so he shrugged and allowed a small trace of pain to grace his face. "I have been cursed."

Had the Goblin King just said that he was cursed? "What?" She asked, hoping to have heard wrong.

He just shook his head, "I have been cursed by my mother."

Sarah cringed, but she nodded. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Maybe nothing, maybe everything," was what he replied, and Sarah glared at his cryptic remark, which caused him to laugh slightly. "The Labyrinth is experiencing the same sort of phenomenal weather. That place is a desert, it has never snowed before."

So the dream wasn't really a dream after all; it was the truth. "I had a dream the other day about the Labyrinth covered in snow."

This information frightened and confused him. How had Sarah known the Labyrinth was touched by the blizzard? And why was she dreaming of it? This visit was leading to more questions than answers and he sighed wearily. "That is what I was doing before you called me."

She looked confused, "You were dreaming of the Labyrinth?"

A smile touched his lips but not his eyes, they remained sorrowful, "No. I was searching for the curse. I'm almost positive it is here, on this world. It would be easier to hide the magic, but I can still sense it; feel it. I just can't find it," his last words drifted off.

"How can you find a curse? It's not a thing…" she stopped as Jareth's gaze made her feel naïve.

"Oh no? Jareth asked lightly. "This curse has taken a form recently, which is why all of this is happening now. The actual curse was placed not long after you beat my Labyrinth." He saw the fear in her eyes, saw the questioning blame, but did not mention it.

A form, he had said. A shiver ran down her back, "What kind of form?" Her question was rewarded with a blank look. "If I knew that," he said through grit teeth, "Do you think I would do nothing about it?" Her thoughts began to whirl, a few weeks ago the occurrences began…a few weeks ago the snow storms began, the dreams began, and the eyes began. It was only at this moment in Jareth's presence that she did not feel them. She swallowed hard and Jareth sensed that something was wrong, she was afraid of something. "What is it?" Concerned lined his voice.

"I…" she began, but stuttered, "I want to show you something, but you have to promise not to react." His brows rose. "Swear, Jareth!" She was serious, she needed to know something, but she didn't want anything to happen.

Jareth watched her stubborn stance a few minutes before nodding. Whatever it was, she was serious; and he, well, he was curious now. What could be so important?

Ok guys, what do you think? I thought this was a pretty nifty place to end this section. Tell me what you think cuz it's really important to me. Do you like their reunion?


	4. Give me the Child

**VII**

**Give Me the Child**

Chapter 13

Sarah watched him nod, and swallowing her fear she motioned for him to follow her out of the dark room. They walked a few feet down the hall, and Sarah paused at a new door. Tentatively she began to bring her hand out and reach for the knob, but when a firm grasp clutched at her arm she started and stared shocked at Jareth. There was a glint of fear in his eyes, and her stomach dropped. Even without truly showing him, she had her answer.

"What is in the room?" He hissed through tight teeth. Though he didn't remove his hand, he did loosen the grip, but kept her from opening the door.

Her breath caught in her chest, her heart beat rapidly, and all she could do is shake her head. "What…what do you think?"

A slender, gloved hand touched the door, and Sarah watched as Jareth tilted his head back and closed his eyes. "I can feel it, even though there are barriers, I can feel it." With a snap his eyes were upon her and she took a step back. "I will not ask again, Sarah: What is behind that door?"

With her free hand she turned the knob and allowed the door to swing silently open. They both glanced in, not knowing what to expect. Jareth half expected a creature so monstrous the appearance would be terrifying, but instead all he saw was a darkened room, with a large, empty bed, and a small crib. A crib? Fear grabbed him, and his skin turned cold. "Sarah, tell me that isn't _your_ child." The power emanating from the room was so strong it suffocated his senses and he focused his eyes on the crib. All his fears lie in that tiny bed.

She shook her head, but refrained from entering the room. "Her name is Deirdre, she's my godchild." Jareth's eyes darted to and fro, back between the baby and Sarah. He sighed and released her arm, but also didn't enter the room. Sarah was so confused. "It's her, isn't it?" She asked. Jareth was so quiet, so still; she watched his eyes as they searched the room. With disgust evident he closed the door and began pacing the hallway.

"Damn woman," he muttered under his breath. Whether or not she had meant to was not even a question; his mother was the reason for all of this. He strode past Sarah several times, not really noticing her. This complicated things, really complicated things. How was he to destroy a child? He would do it, he had to, but how was he going to justify his actions. He had never killed a child before; despite what his record said. He brushed his fingers through his hair and stopped pacing inches in front of Sarah, who softly gasped at his unpredictable motions. "You know what I must do." He stated simply.

Without though she moved to block his way to the door, "No, you can't!"

He sighed, "Sarah, why did you call me?" He watched as a defiant expression formed on her face. "You can feel it too; you must be able to sense it." He moved close to her, a few inches away from her face. Her eyes flickered and she looked down at the floor. "Don't defy me again, Sarah," he said tiredly.

Her head snapped up and she pushed him away. "You can't have her, Jareth."

"Sarah," he began exasperated, but she cut him off with a curt wave of her hand. He might have found it amusing that a human was commanding him to be silent under any other circumstances; he might even have laughed at the absurdity, but at this moment it angered him, and he slowly squeezed his fists together. She was all that kept him from destroying this ridiculous curse. He growled, and Sarah's eyes widened. "Do you honestly think you can stop me?"

Chewing on her bottom lip, she met his dark gaze and nod. "I didn't wish the child away," she muttered quietly, her voice a mere whisper. "All I asked was that you appear," she watched her words flow to Jareth. "And…"she began feeling more confident, "You swore, you swore you'd do nothing!"

They stared at each other for a few minutes. Jareth's gaze was hard, his face was set, but his shoulders were dropped slightly, a sign of defeat. He shook his head and began to walk away from her, back to the room he had first entered. She hesitantly followed him, not really sure what to expect, but relieved to put some distance between Jareth and Deirdre, but also herself and Deirdre. Suddenly Jareth turned on her and she nearly screamed. "Alright, Sarah," his words were crisp and cruel, and cut her more than she'd like to admit, "we'll play by your rules for now. But, I _will_ have that child." He turned from her again and continued walking to the window, and she blindly followed. Again she was caught off guard as he stopped and spun towards her, his face nearly brushing against her own. "Stop being selfish, Sarah," he whispered quietly. Behind him, snow began to fall, and as if sensing it Jareth sneered, "it's not just my life, Sarah; look at the power she has, and she's just a baby. I cannot allow it to grow."

All she wanted to do was cry and hand over the baby, but she couldn't. Carol's happiness was wrapped in Deirdre. She could not, no, _would not_, destroy her closest friend's reason for living. She brought her watery eyes to Jareth's, "There has to be another way, Jareth. She's just a baby!"

"More of a monster, really," he responded turning his back on her. He told himself he wished to see the snow falling, but deep down, he did not want to see her cry. His will power seemed to dissolve around this mortal; everything she requested he granted, and this evidently was no different. It made him furious, but at himself, not at her, which infuriated him more. He barely noticed Sarah's soft, white hand cover his arm, but he was forced to look at her as she moved in front of him.

"Find a different way," she was begging him, he realized that, but she was so damned sincere he could not bring himself to mock her.

"Sarah," again she cut him off with a hand movement.

"There _has_ to be another way." Her chin was tilted defiantly towards him.

"Why are you so sure," he asked narrowing his eyes.

She was silent a moment before moving away from him. "Because," she began uncertainly, "because there is always more than one way to do something; there is always a choice."

Jareth nodded in agreement, "Usually," he allowed her that. Her logic may be very human, but it held a thin truth. He sighed, "Sarah, I can't promise you anything," he rested his hands on the window sill, the cold air numbing his skin, "and it is possible at the soonest convenience I will take that child and undo the curse, but," he continued quickly as he saw her begin to protest, "before I do, I shall do as you wish," again, he mentioned to himself, "and search for a different way to end this, for I have no desire to kill a child." Quickly, before he said or did anything rash, he changed his form and fled the apartment; transporting out of the snowy air as the wind pushed the small body in crazy patterns.

Sarah rushed to the window as his owl form flew into the storm. She sucked in her breath as the owl was tossed lightly in the gusts before the small bird blinked out of her world. The night's events replayed in her mind, and she absentmindedly closed the window. As she turned towards her room, her bed suddenly seemed very far away; so she slid down the wall and sat on the floor; bringing both legs under her chin and wrapping her arms around them. She had felt so safe when he was there, the eyes had stopped following her, the sickening feeling had left her senses, but now that he was gone…she suddenly felt very vulnerable. With a shudder, she began to cry. She had planned on calling him as an ally, not an enemy again. He was very formidable as an enemy; she shivered as his cold eyes resurfaced in her memory. But, she had got her answers, at least partly. She knew what was causing the snow, and she knew Deirdre was not a normal baby, but she had known that before. Now, the only thing certain was the man she had meant to ask for help had turned into her enemy again; and once again she was protecting a child…only this time…she wasn't really sure if she wanted to protect this one.

Ok, well, what do you think?

Thank you all very much for reviewing! I'd especially want to thank Alorindanya, who made me, begrudgingly, agree to name Jareth's mother. I don't like her, so I didn't want to name her, but I guess she'll end up getting a chapter soon ;).

Do you guys like Sarah? She should have just given him the baby, huh? Just kidding.

Shavaineth: No, I don't think he's pleased at all.


	5. Glimpses

Alrighty! Here's the next chapter, and I hope everyone likes it. I want to thank everyone sooo very much for reviewing. And I want to put in a special thanks to my best friend, Missy Greene, who always listens patiently, even when I ramble, and for letting me know if I'm on to a good idea, and for being the best editor ever! So, tell me what you think, this chapter is a bit dramatic…but I think I pulled it off…well, here's to hoping! Cheers!

Chapter 14

As soon as he materialized into his study a crystal was formed and thrown against the stone wall. It broke and shattered, but that was not enough to soothe him. He threw another, and another, and when that was not enough he glanced around the room. A wooden chair was the next to feel his fury. He brought it over his head and smashed it down against his desk. The chair splintered, pieces of wood flew into his face, but he was blind to it all. His eyes were blazing; he grabbed a broken leg off the chair and began smashing his desk. Papers flew up into the air, candles bounced to the floor, and his rage was leaving him rather exhausted, but he continued a few minutes more before letting the beaten leg fall from his fingers.

Slowly, he regained control. The fire in his eyes dulled, and he pulled his hands together, fingers tapping his lips. He was not proud of the mess he had created, and he closed his eyes slightly. Better inanimate objects than goblins, for had he released his anger on them he doubted he would have any subjects left to govern. A sigh escaped his lips. Not like he was going to have any subjects left anyway. The freezing weather had his goblins holed up in their small, drafty homes, or in the bottom levels of the castle, but what about the stubborn fools who did not ask for help? He had a sinking feeling that many of his subjects were literally going to freeze to death from exposure. He was just as concerned for the ones below him in the Goblin City. What about their food…the crops depended on sunlight, on heat; not on this endless cloudy sky and subzero temperatures.

And then there was Sarah. Whatever had possessed him to agree to her? Oh, he knew, he knew that the mortal girl always had a hold over him, for he felt he owed her so much. It might even be deeper than that, but at the moment, he really did not want to dwell. He looked over the study, searching for a place to sit, for he was suddenly very tired. A smirk graced his features as he realized he had destroyed his only chair. Figures.

His head spun, and he tried to concentrate as he leaned against a wall; small shards of crystal crunching under his leather heels. How was he going to rid himself of this curse? He had no means of investigating ways to remove curses; the easiest way was merely to vanquish it, in this case; slay the host. He had tried once to keep a library in the castle, but that proved unsuccessful for the goblins liked paper…well, liked to _eat _paper was more accurate.

The soft hues of morning filtered into the study and Jareth glanced at the sky. The once brilliant red was subdued and covered by thick patches of clouds, but at least it had stopped snowing. The labyrinth was covered with snow and ice, the air was frigid, but it had stopped snowing. His eyes felt very heavy. He had spent the entire previous day searching Aboveground for the curse, and it had been the middle of night when Sarah had called him. A day of searching left his body feeling exhausted, his head buzzed and his body ached, and in a blink he transported himself into his personal chambers and collapsed onto the mighty sized bed; clothes and shoes still present.

In what seemed a matter of minutes, Jareth was dreaming again. There was a comforting presence around him; familiar, yet unidentified. He saw himself, a young boy, maybe four, sitting happily on the lap of a person he could not see clearly. All that interested his younger self was a shiny pendant that hung on the grown man's chest. His tiny hands tugged it and twisted it and he admired the pattern so very much.

"Young Jareth," a man's voice said softly in his ear, but he did not look away from the pendant; instead, he pressed his head against the man's chest, "Are you paying attention, Jareth?" Jareth just nodded and smiled as he felt the man sigh. Two large, but gentle hands forced him to sit forward, facing a table with stacks of books. It was only then that the youth bothered looking at his surroundings.

He was sitting in a room lined with books, scrolls, and large tables in the middle of the room. The area was pristine, clean, and nearly every inch sparkled, but what was truly remarkable was the way the white reflected a rainbow of colors as the light from the windows caught the surface. In front of him lay a beautiful manuscript with the simple words "Prophicae" written in bold calligraphy. That was what the man had been trying to show him, he remembered now. He reached his hands for the paper eager to please, when suddenly he was jerked back and away from the man's lap. Confusion swept over him; he looked longingly to the man as he was lifted into another's embrace. He relaxed and smiled as he heard a woman's familiar voice, but she was harsh, and cold, and this woman sounded nothing like his mother as he heard her say, "Stay away from Jareth." But he knew it was his mother that had spoken, and he tightly squeezed her neck as she stormed out of the room with him in tow.

Jareth's mind reeled back into reality slowly and he pushed himself up on his hands; leaning back lazily. The ticking of the clock forced him to focus and he shook his head as he saw the hands pointing to noon. One of his hands shot out from behind him; automatically feeling for the heavy pendant around his neck. The dream was beginning to fade; already he was having trouble recalling what he had seen, what he had heard, but the feeling of peace stayed with him, as did the image of that massive library. Only one place had walls that shimmered in sunlight, and it was a place he knew all too well. He had been tried and sentenced twice within the confines of those walls, for those were the walls of the Palace Mayair.

Far, in the depths of the Underground, in a beautiful land of seas and meadows, forests and mountains, lay the Palace of Mayair. For thousands of years upon thousands of years the Palace housed the governing bodies of the Underground society. The council members lived in quiet homes outside the palace, but within the confines of the walls. The towers of the Palace reached into the sky, glistening in the ever present sun, and at the tallest tower resided the High Councilman Addoyn.

Jareth sucked in his breath as he glanced at the high towers. The bright sun made his eyes water, but he continued his upward gaze a few more minutes before turning his attention to the armed entrances, and to the normal bustle of people coming and going during the midday rush. Some gave him weary glances, for they either remembered him as a boy and feared him, or thought him a stranger, which all the fools feared anyway. He smirked, nothing like returning home to make one feel loved. He opted not to tempt the guards at the entrance, and instead; he followed his memory into the large library.

The room was exactly how he remembered it. The arched windows allowed an exact amount of light into the domed room. All the bookshelves were lined from ceiling to floor with endless tomes of knowledge. It was quite overwhelming. Where does one even start? He reached a table and sat, throwing his legs over the table and leaning back. It was so quiet here, he could hear the commotion down on the streets below, but it seemed so far away. It was quiet, but he was far from alone. He sensed Addoyn's presence before the High Councilman appeared and Jareth allowed a genuine smile.

"I have found the curse," Jareth said to the empty air. The space next to him shimmered and Addoyn appeared, looking tired in his brown robes.

"And yet, I sense it still upon you," he asked questioningly, his blue eyes searching the king's face.

Jareth nodded and rest his head on his hand propped up by his elbow. "It's attached to a child." He divulged waiting for the older man's reaction.

As if in pain, Addoyn squeezed his eyes shut, and reached blindly for a chair. "That woman," he spat, and Jareth smiled sadly.

"That was my reaction as well."

Addoyn shook his head and slowly sat, "Well, if you have found this child, why have you not destroyed it," the look Jareth gave him nearly broke his heart. There was such sadness in the Goblin King's eyes, a sadness that was once defiance, but circumstances were eating away at his fire, and that was not what Addoyn desired. "What is it?" he asked again as Jareth stood and walked towards a window.

"The child is being protected by Sarah," was all he said leaning against the sill. The light cascaded down upon him, highlighted his hair, and brightened his mismatched eyes. At that moment he looked very much like his mother, and Addoyn sighed.

"The same Sarah?" His response was a slow nod from Jareth, who avoided eye contact. Addoyn noticed, "What else?" he asked brusquely.

Jareth lowered his head again. He always felt like a child in Addoyn's presence, always so petulant. "I told her I would find a way to cure the curse without destroying the baby." He waited for Addoyn to yell, and was caught off guard as the older man began to lightly chuckle.

"Well," he said after a few minutes, "that was incredibly stupid of you, now wasn't it?" He laughed again as Jareth glared. "That does explain your presence here, but tell me, Jareth; how did you know of this place? It is not open to the general public."

Jareth shrugged, "I remembered it." He did not notice Addoyn's eyes widen, nor did he notice the man sit straight in his chair.

"Come and sit Jareth, I may be able to help." Jareth had no better plan, so he sat and rested his head against the chair as Addoyn disappeared into the columns and rows of paper knowledge.

"Sarah!" she heard the voice, but ignored it. "SARAH!"

The second yell, seeing as it came from her door, was harder to dismiss and she opened her eyes groggily. There was a moment of disorientation as she felt the hard floor beneath her and a cold wall at her back. She was still in a fetal position, knees tucked under chin, and Sarah had the distinct feeling that she was going to pay for that later. A knock came from her door and she stood stiffly. "I'm up, Carol, I'm up," her door opened and Carol strode in, a happy smile upon her lips, her red hair tied in a bun.

"Good," she smiled again, "I'm going down to check the mail, and Deirdre is asleep in her crib." Sarah's eyes darkened at the mention of the name, but Carol was oblivious. It was at this moment that Carol looked at Sarah's crumpled clothes and sunken eyes. "You look like hell, Sarah, bad night?" Sarah nodded slowly and turned her back on her friend. For a few moments Carol stood transfixed, and rather perplexed by Sarah's odd behavior. The other day she had ran like a bat out of hell into a snow storm, and now she was unresponsive and reclusive. Frowning she took a step forward, "Is everything alright?"

Sarah turned and plastered the most painful and fake smile on her face, "Yeah, everything's great," she said happily. "I just had a rough night. I'm just going to take a bath, and I'll feel better." She wasn't sure if the façade would work on Carol, and she was relieved when Carol nodded and tightly smiled.

"Alright then…well, I'll be back in a few minutes," she turned to leave and called over her back, "Keep an eye out on Deirdre, k?" Sarah grimaced as her friend disappeared down the hall and out of the apartment.

Her neck creaked, her back ached, and her long black hair hung limply against her back. Pushing the child out of her mind, she rummaged through her dresser, picked out an outfit and strolled into the bathroom; excitedly she adjusted the water temp for the bathtub and watched with satisfaction as it was filled with steaming water. When it reached the rim she shut of the faucet, shimmied out of her wrinkled clothes, and sunk blessedly into the water. The heat eased her muscles, and helped to soothe her rather frayed nerves. She scratched her scalp briefly and sighed, scooting down into the water. For a moment, everything was normal, everything was peaceful.

Taking a deep breath, she submerged herself, pulling her blanket of hair under with her. It was so quiet under water, so peaceful, and though sights may be distorted through the rippling waves, she admired the view. Blinking slowly and smiling to herself she began to raise her head out of the water. As she reached the brim of the water though, her head hit a solid surface. Confusion swept over her face and she brought her hands up, feeling the liquid and then feeling the top of the water, hard as ice. Panic threatened to overcome her, her heart began to race, but she calmed herself. She pounded on the surface, but it did not budge. Now, she was panicked and she began shouting, her warbled words drowning in the water. It was not doing her any good, though, for all she accomplished was using her air. She stopped shouting and lay very still trying to think of a plan. But thinking was becoming difficult as the oxygen was depleting in her lungs. She only had a few choices readily available: either stay quiet, wait for the water to return to normal, scream her head off in attempt to attracted attention, or scream a name. Black spots began to dance in front of her eyes, her lungs began to ache, and her heart pounded loudly. The moment of truth had arrived, and she screamed the name, praying that he would not ignore her call.

Addoyn returned to the main lobby, hands full of pamphlets, books, and a manuscript that rested on top of the pile. Unceremoniously, he dropped the stack in front of the lounging Goblin King, who, startled, nearly fell backwards in the chair he was leaning in. Addoyn laughed, "Easy Jareth, it is just me." He watched as Jareth dropped his feet and glanced wearily as Addoyn backed away from the towering papers.

For a moment, Jareth just looked at the books, not moving. At the top of a stack was a familiar looking piece of paper, one that he desired to read, but did not dare to touch. Addoyn sat beside the king and scoffed, "Here an old man does backbreaking labor just to have his work left untouched." He sniffed slightly and Jareth laughed despite himself.

"Sorry, Addoyn," he began as he stood from the chair, "my mind is wondering a bit." He watched the older man nod before he continued his trek towards the research materials. With a bit of trepidation he lifted a hand, struggling to keep it from shaking and reached for the top manuscript. A few inches more and he would have it in his grasp, a few inches more and this haunting piece of literature would be his, but as his hand graced the paper a summon so powerful struck his senses and left him on the floor.

Addoyn stood, causing the chair to topple over, and reached for the sprawled king, pulling him up to his feet. The summon was powerful and the energy was raw. The scream had shattered into the realm, and if it was enough for him to feel, he could only imagine the backlash of energy Jareth was experiencing. But now was not the time to recuperate; whoever had yelled for help was desperate, and he shook Jareth roughly in attempt to bring the king around. The king's eyes began to focus and Addoyn shook him softly once more before allowing the king to regain his own balance.

Jareth's eyes narrowed and still a little overwhelmed he disappeared from the room, knowing where he was going, and quite dreadful of what he was to find.

He arrived outside a bathroom, and it was eerily quiet. For someone who had screamed his name in such agonizing urgency, she was being very quiet. Movements from the bathroom caught his eye, and furrowing his brows he stepped towards the room, panic ensuing as he saw Sarah's form struggling in the bathtub. Instantly, he attempted to enter the bathroom, but he was propelled away from the door; a barrier blocking his entrance. He ground his teeth together and attempted again; this time he was thrown off the barrier and onto the ground. The thrashing in the water was lessoning and Jareth pounded the floor with a fist. A laugh shocked him, and he spun to see a small child floating slowly down the hall.

Deirdre laughed again, "Hello Jareth," the voice occupied several octaves at the same time, but never truly stayed stationary. Jareth swallowed and stood from the floor, not daring to face the babe lying down. To his utter horror, she laughed again and began transforming before his eyes. Her baby hands and feet stretched, her small arms and legs expanded, the black hair snaked from her scalp and dropped to the ground and the baby was no longer a baby, but a youth staring at the Goblin King with swirling, black, obsidian eyes.

But Jareth was never one to be intimidated. "Let her be, Deirdre." He growled.

The child just smirked, "Oh, but it's much more fun this way, isn't it?"

"She doesn't mean anything to you, Deirdre?" Jareth spat his words out like venom. "Without her, no one will be here to defend you."

"Don't flatter yourself, Goblin King," was the child's response as she floated to look into the bathroom. A look of complete satisfaction crossed her features as she saw the struggle in the water. "Killing Sarah is not for my benefit, but for yours."

Jareth did not care to have this demonic child elaborate; all he saw was the movement in the bathtub slowing down as Sarah lost her struggle. "Release the barriers, Deirdre," he threatened as he took a step towards her.

Her laugh sent chills down his spine, but she stayed where she was, "You are in no position to make demands of _me_, Goblin King."

He could feel Sarah slipping away and he grew angry. His eyes flashed and purple lightning streaked across the sky and throughout the hallway. Deirdre was startled and she backed against the wall. That show of power was unexpected, and it unnerved the being slightly. The Goblin King was quite powerful if he was able to instill fear in her. "Deirdre, if you _do not_…" his threat was ended prematurely as the front door swung open, and a woman's cheery voice called into the apartment. "Sarah! I'm back!"

Both Deirdre and Jareth watched each other intently, waiting for the other to retreat first. As the woman rounded the corner, Deirdre dropped to the floor briefly before vanishing and at the same moment the barriers were dropped and Jareth appeared beside the deep porcelain tub, leaning in and gently bringing a very still body out of the warm water. Her lips were blue, her skin was tinted the same, and he cradled her into his lap.

"Come on, Sarah," he whispered to her as he positioned her limp body over his shoulder. He brought a hand to her back and felt for the stagnant water in her lungs. With a small push from his magic he willed the water forth. Sarah's body lurched forward as a cough wracked her body, but the movement was short lived. As soon as the cough resided, her body resumed its limp posture against his drenched body.

A woman entered the bedroom and screamed, "What in the world? Who the hell are you?" She made as if to grab for Sarah, but Jareth held a hand up and the red-haired woman slid harmlessly to the door.

Jareth closed his eyes and listened for any sign of Sarah. His heightened sense of hearing picked up a faint heartbeat; very slow, nearly stopped, but it was there. "Sarah," he called again and was rewarded with a fluttered heartbeat. He smiled softly, "Come on Sarah." Again he felt for water in her lungs and expunged it with magic. This time a breath was taken and the woman began coughing, her hands grabbing and clutching his shirt tightly. She continued coughing, each breath deeper than the previous while the coughing was getting shallow until she stopped and shivered.

"She…" Sarah gasped. "She was going to kill me!" she spoke into his shoulder.

"I know," Jareth replied turning his face to the woman in the doorway. Her face was pale, her mouth was slack and the woman cringed as a furious eyed man glared at her. "Where is the child?" He asked coldly.

"Deirdre?" Carol asked frightened. When the man nodded she recoiled slightly. His eyes were unnatural: one blue, one brown, and they blazed angrily towards her. She did not want to anger this man and she responded quickly. "Deirdre is asleep…"

Jareth nodded harshly and returned his gaze to the woman in his arms, whose face was still buried in his shirt. Rather suddenly he noticed her naked form, her long black hair allowing splashes of white skin to show. He placed his hands under her knees and lifted them off the ground simultaneously and gracefully grabbing and placing a towel over her figure before blinking out of the room. Carol was left looking very confused around the bathroom.

When they appeared in her room Jareth attempted to lower Sarah to the bed, but she clung to him tighter than his soaked clothes and to his utter dismay she began to cry. "She was going to kill me!" She repeated in between sobs. "And all I could think of…all I could think of…" she broke down and cried. Jareth sighed and wrapped a blanket around Sarah and held her as she wept in his arms.

"Now can I destroy it?" He asked wearily and sighed as he felt her shaking her head in response.

"Stop asking me, because I am seriously reconsidering," she muttered.

"As would I," Jareth responded. Her sobs softened as did her grasp and Jareth lowered her down the rest of the way to her bed. He sighed softly as her green eyes searched his own. A stray piece of hair fell into her face, and he pushed it behind her ear; his hand lingering on her cheek a moment longer than necessary. He was as shocked as she when she brought a small hand up to his and smiled.

"You came," she breathed. Jareth nodded and Sarah coughed again, allowing the last traces of the bath water to drain from her aching lungs. Her body felt so weak, her limbs were numb, her head pounded, and each breath filtering into her lungs felt like liquid fire. Her eyes began to droop, and Jareth smiled softly and stood from her bed, quickly and magically drying his clothes and her bed.

"You should sleep," he said to her as her eyelids slowly shut. He began to turn, when her hand shot out and grabbed him by the arm; restraining him. Horror laced her face, her eyes shook and she squeezed his arm tight.

"You can't leave me," her eyes wondered to her door, "Not with that…thing." Jareth sighed and sat on the bed. "You can't have it both ways, Sarah. You won't allow me to destroy it, and you can't possibly expect me to stay every second with you." She shook her head, and clutched his hand tightly, "I know, I know, and I don't expect anything out of you," she paused, looking down at their hands. "Please, Jareth, just for a while. Just until I fall asleep," she begged. He knew he would, it was a request from Sarah after all, and he was a slave to her. He nodded in defeat and she smiled happily. Damn; that was all he could think as he watched over her. Slowly her eyes closed and her breathing settled into a deep, steady rhythm. She was asleep in just a few seconds, but he lingered there. All thoughts that were not immediately connected with her were erased, all he could focus on were their hands still joined. And truth be told, he did not want to leave her presence anyway.

Ok! So, let us talk about Jareth's mother for a second. When I outlined this story I originally had Addoyn as the protagonist, but as I'm sure you all know, certain characters run away with you, and that is exactly what Jareth's mother has done to me. So, she's now an important factor to the story, and I have worked out the bugs involving her (Thanks Missy!), and so future chapters _will_ better explain her, and her evident loathing of Jareth. Just be patient! Now! Go and review so I can be happy!


	6. Shards

And, here is the next chapter. There are some time jumps, but I think you guys will be able to figure them out. I know this chapter is a little short, but it's leading up to a lot, so just be patient. And thanks again to all who review.

Chapter 15

Addoyn shook his head as he stared through the spot where just a moment ago Jareth vanished. Something was wrong; he was still slightly shaken by the force of that scream. It had been a woman's voice; a very terrified woman if the summon was any indication, and he found himself unusually worried. He did not usually care much for mortals, but he sensed this woman might be special; if nothing else, special to Jareth. Sighing, he straightened the chair and sauntered over to the window. He was patient; one did not live to be hundreds of years old by being impatient, so he would wait. Jareth would return when he saw fit. After all, he thought as he gazed down to the city below him, Jareth always did dance to a different tune. He smiled at that. He might have enjoyed the moment of silence longer, but someone was searching for him; he could feel his path being traced into his sanctuary, and he sighed. There was no doubt as to who it was.

Her scent assaulted his senses before she even arrived. Besides, her magic was strong and she did not wish to keep tight control it, and as such it permeated everything around her. Sometimes he thought she did that on purpose; merely to frighten those she sought. But she never frightened him; infuriated him, aggravated him, sickened him even, but never frightened him. "Stop with the theatrics, and just come forward." Was all he said as he placed his hands behind his back, straightened his posture, and spread his feet slightly; looking very much like the councilman he was.

The air was filled with a fluty laugh seconds before she emerged from the shadows. Her long blonde hair fell in waves down to the floor, her soft lilac dress hung to her curves, and her sharp facial features were upturned in a grin. Smiling, she flowed over to the High Councilman and joined his vigil. Her smile turned into a sneer as she followed his gaze. "Pathetic, aren't they?" she asked meaning the common people below.

He shook his head and moved away from her. Her scent was overpowering, and exotically arousing, and distance was much needed. "I saw your son today," he mentioned lightly and was rewarded when her sneer changed to a downright frown. Her green and brown eyes darkened for a moment before she lightened them and smiled, leaning her weight to one side and placing a hand on her hip.

"And how is my darling son?" Very little concern laced her voice and Addoyn shook his head in disgust.

"You _do_ realize what you are doing to him, do you not Temnestra?"

She waved him off, "Yes, yes, of course." She replied absentmindedly as she pushed down a wrinkle in her dress. She was vaguely aware the councilman was staring at her, and she met his gaze; blinking innocently. "What?" She asked exasperated. Without warning, he advanced on her and backed her into a corner forcing her to push herself against the wall. If it hadn't been for the dangerous glint in his blue eyes she might have been excited, but as such she had the decency to look slightly worried.

For a moment, their eyes were locked. Nothing really needed to be said. Temnestra knew Addoyn's position on her treatment of her son, for she had heard it many times before. "You should be nicer to him, Temnestra, he loves you," he would say. Or "Do not push him away; he is the only one you have." But she rarely listened to his nonsense. Jareth was hers to do with as she pleased, that was a perk of being the mother. Haughtiness spread across her face and she turned her face defiantly. To her utter surprise, Addoyn grabbed her chin and forced her face forward causing her eyes to widen in shock. Rarely did anyone dare to get physical with her; save that rather embarrassing episode with her son earlier. She did not know how to react, so indignantly she allowed Addoyn's hands to remain grasping her face.

Addoyn smirked. "You are a horrible excuse for a mother, Temnestra." Her eyes hardened and Addoyn tightened his grasp, "You don't deserve him." His voice was so low, barely a whisper, but she heard. She heard and grew angry.

"Do not lecture me, Addoyn." Roughly she reclaimed her face from his hands. Her eyes flickered triumphantly as he cringed when she said his name. Not many knew it, not many dared to utter it, but she dared. Her chest began to rise and fall quickly in anticipation of a fight, but she calmed herself as he released her from the wall and stepped back, the dangerous glint in his eyes replaced with a new, sinister one; one she had not seen in a very long time. She turned from him, partially from shock, partially because it was a sign of disrespect, and her eyes happened to fall on the stacks of papers resting messily on the table. Slowly she returned her gaze to Addoyn, who matched her stare. A cruel smile spread upon her pink lips showing her pointed teeth and she walked over to the pile; pausing as she saw the topics. Again she faced Addoyn, who watched with a small amount of concern on his face. "What have we here, Addoyn?" she asked with deadly calm. He sighed as she reached for the topmost parchment; face hardening as her fingers lingered over the title. Quickly, he stepped in front of her and grasped the paper tightly; folding it gingerly and placing it in a pocket of his robes, earning him a sneer.

The room was silent; both councilors glared daggers towards the other. Though they agreed on many things, Jareth had been a sore subject for many, many years, and had been the subject of debate for many years as well. After all this time, Addoyn was helpless to force Temnestra to treat her son better, for in the Underground, the mother has nearly absolute rule over her offspring. As such, Jareth was hers. Addoyn knew it; Temnestra knew it; Jareth may be ignorant, but his understanding was never relevant to their arguments; arguments that never solved anything and always ended with a rather awkward truce. They stood, time froze, and suddenly they both smiled. Small smiles, but smiles nonetheless. The palace clock chimed and simultaneously they turned their heads towards the window. Nothing was going to change, not in this moment. Jareth was still going to be misused by Temnestra, and Addoyn would still disagree with the treatment; however, on this matter it was best to agree to disagree. He extended his arm out to her, and she accepted.

For many years they had worked together; creating a strong framework for the Underground. Treaties, tariffs, laws; all aspects of Underground life was touched by the council, and together they were a formidable team, and though it was quite often that they disagreed about Jareth, he was just such a small part of their world, and neither were able to discard hundreds of years of hard work for one problem. Flawlessly they have worked around the issue; skirting the hurt, and allowing it to fester unchecked, for the Underground was more important than their personal matters, more important than just Jareth, and for now, arm in arm, they had work to do.

Sarah awoke feeling very alone. The blankets were still wrapped tightly around her and she snuggled in their protective embrace. Hesitantly she glanced at her clock, and then to the window. It was nearly two in the afternoon, but the thick clouds and white snow cast a grayish tint across her world; a perpetual morning. Tomorrow she had school, but for now, she was glad it was a Sunday. A small smile appeared on her face and she sat up slowly. The normalcy of school would probably do her good. No possessed, out-to-kill-her child, no Goblin King with his empty expressions…her thoughts lingered there a moment. Jareth had come again. That pleased her, but also frightened her a little. She in no way believed she had him at beg and call, which brought forth a question. Why _did_ Jareth come when she called? True, this last summon was an emergency, she shuttered as she remembered the panic, but pushed it down. He would not have left if she wasn't safe, right? She nodded to herself and resumed answering her own question. He answered her today because it was imperative, at least to her, that he do so, but what about the other night? Hadn't he even said he was busy? Biting her lip she allowed her eyes to roam around her room. What about the time she wished away Toby? Well, that was a stupid question, she had _wished_ away Toby. But she hadn't really known he was going to be taken. A small thought occurred and she shivered despite the warmth of the blankets. Maybe she had.

When she was a child all she could talk about were the small creatures constantly following her, constantly talking to her; showing her things no other child could dream of. Her parents, her real mother and father, had grown so worried they had sent her to a doctor. At seven she was visiting a therapist due to hallucinations, and for most of her life she thought of them as such, but what if they weren't? Searching her memory, she could almost make out the thick skins, the pig noses, the dumb expressions…those had been goblins. Was that when she had first found the book? She nodded to herself again. That was when her mother and father were divorcing. So unhappy was she that she threw herself into the world, such a strong believer. Maybe that was why he had come…because deep down, she knew he was real, and she knew, even at fifteen, that if she called he would come, for she believed in him. She wrinkled her nose. That didn't make her a very good sister, did it?

A hushed voice outside her room caught her attention and she held her breath. She stayed still, even after recognizing Carol's quiet but clearly panicked voice. "I don't know," there was silence, and Sarah realized Carol was on the phone. "Look, you just need to come over here and examine her. I mean…she doesn't look like a one month old baby! Hell," her voice rose a little, "she looks like she's going on five! And her hair…doctor, her hair is touching the ground." There was silence again, "From the bed?" was Carol's next sardonic reply, and Sarah frowned. What was going on?

She unwrapped herself and blushed deeply as she saw her naked body. Had he…she couldn't think of it, she dashed out of her bed and sought out clothes; a blue sweater and a long wool skirt of burgundy. Because, she mentioned to herself, it was the middle of July and freezing outside. She ran a brush quickly through her hair and opened her door. Carol was pacing the hallway, the phone pressed to her face along with an angry expression. Shaking her head, Carol responded, "Fine, it can wait until tomorrow. Thanks Doctor," she said dejected and hung up the phone.

"Everything alright?" Sarah asked softly.

Carol nearly jumped out of her skin as Sarah's voice reached her ears. She spun towards her friend and hugged her tightly, a deep frown on her brow. "Of _course_ everything's not alright! I was gone a few minutes, and when I get back there's a strange man, and I mean a _very_ strange man hovering over you in the bathtub, you were blue, he knows you…"

Sarah backed away from Carol. "Ok, ok, calm down," she said as Carol's usually pale skin took a red tint.

"That's not all…you need to look at Deirdre." There was fear in her voice and Sarah held down the shudder. No need to increase Carol's fear of the child. Slowly she nodded and approached the room. It was dark, darker than it should have been for the window was open, the lights were on, but the light seemed to be sucked out of the room before it had a chance to fully brighten it.

Sarah looked back at Carol, "Is she down for a nap?" Carol nodded and Sarah allowed a breath of relief to pass her lips. She did _not _want to encounter Deirdre awake right now, not with knowing what she knew. The crib was just a few inches away, so she snuck into the room quietly and peered in. The cot was empty. At first she thought Jareth had taken her anyway, and she wasn't sure if that bothered her or pleased her, but she felt Carol's hand on her shoulder turning her towards the larger bed in the middle of the room. Sarah's breath caught her throat as she saw a little girl, a beautiful little girl at that, sleeping in the bed. Recoiling out of the room she stared wide eyed at Carol, "That's…that's…" she couldn't bring herself to finish. Carol just nodded and Sarah brought a hand to her head, rubbing her temples.

Damn, she thought, this complicates things.

Jareth was being called. He sat and rubbed Sarah's small hand once more before standing from the bed. It was a bloody inconvenient call too, but there was urgency behind it. His goblin's never called him for unnecessary reasons, for their king tended to be upset if he was called for the mundane and often one or more of the goblins were thrown into a wall or sent for a very unpleasant swim when such summons occurred. He let his eyes linger on Sarah's sleeping face a moment before he allowed his gloved hand to brush her cheek. She was very quiet asleep, probably the only time, he mused. Well, he thought placing his hands on his hips, what was he to do with her? It would be rather unwise, even down right stupid, to leave her with Deirdre in the next room without some form of protection other than that other mortal's presence. He began to pace, quick thoughts entering and exiting his mind. Finally, he settled on a simple, yet very effective, protection spell.

He leaned down next to her bed, and placed a hand on her shoulder, and placed another hand on top of her own and concentrated; allowing the words to flow from his mouth. The spell wove as he spoke, encircling her with a small glow, and he repeated the spell until he was satisfied it would do her some good. Standing and brushing his straight pants off, he transported to the Labyrinth.

The first thought was of the cold. It was absolutely freezing. The second thought was of the screaming voices at the castle doors begging and pleading entrance into the castle. Jareth closed the distance between the window and him in a single movement and peered out. The storm was getting worse. Not only was the air clouded over by thick patches of snow falling from the dark clouds, but shards of ice were now slicing through the air as well. Several pieces were inches long, and the goblin huts down in the city were no match for the icy daggers. Jareth watched in horror as shards demolished houses before his eyes. Many of the goblins themselves were being pelted and their bloodied bodies fell helpless to the ground, he could hear them whimpering even from his tower. He turned his sights to his Labyrinth, which was not faring much better. The icy rain was chipping pieces off the wall like it was butter. Jareth fought the urge to surrender, and instead he leaned on the floor. He was going to need as much strength as possible, and when sitting it was easier to concentrate. He could not really believe what he was about to attempt, but something needed to be done, his subjects were literally being destroyed.

He sat on the floor and rested his arms on his bent knees and closed his eyes. He allowed his senses to wonder through the Labyrinth, into every nook and cranny, and upon sensing a creature he captured it in a perfect crystal sphere. For hours he sat like that, concentrating on every single subject, and when he thought they were all safe in the crystal, he reached out and searched again. Satisfied, he pulled the crystal into the confines of the castle and placed his subjects into the great hall. He could hear them screaming out their loved one's names, screaming in pain, some screaming in relief, and he could hear the smarter ones trying to organize the crowd, sending goblins into different portions of the lower castle. They were safe there, all knew it, and their panic eased from Jareth's senses. That was small solace though. He listened from the floor as the rain and snow destroyed his world. Using the last traces of energy he had he pulled a very powerful shield over the castle, barely noticing the icy glint of his skin or the beads of sweat upon his brow before he closed his eyes and allowed exhaustion to sweep over him and encompass him in a warm, dark, embrace.

Bum bum bum! Well? Deirdre's getting powerful, ne? I should just kill that little twirp right now! What do you guys think of Addoyn and Temnestra? Well, gotta go, I'll try and get out another chapter soon.


	7. Of Heroes and Villains

I'm not really sure why I wrote this chapter the way I did…but I think it turned out alright…I read your reviews…you think Addoyn is Jareth's father, huh? Heehee. .

Chapter 16

Of Heroes and Villains

"Really, Carol," Sarah said leaning against her door, knee bent supporting her weight, "it's no problem, I can just drop you off on my way to school." Ah, Monday mornings. Sarah watched detached as Carol ran around the house, literally running in circles; her tiny daughter struggling to follow. It was hard to imagine Deirdre as a damned curse at this moment. The little girl had the shiniest blue eyes, and the sweetest facial expressions; almost like the curse was not embodied in her. Watching her now, Sarah could almost pretend the girl was normal…almost, for Deirdre was a fully functional five year old girl by most standards, but it was only a month ago that she had been born and consequently a curse had been spread.

A tiny buddle of hair leaped into her arms, and Sarah, caught off guard, allowed it to hug her, "Hi, Sarah!" the girl said with a soft, baby voice. Sarah swallowed and pat down Deirdre's long, black locks, not really trusting the child, but willingly allowing herself to believe that Deirdre was more than a curse, that somewhere in there was a real little girl named Deirdre. "Hey, kiddo, ready to go?" Sarah asked motioning to Carol.

Carol stopped her frantic searches for nothing and brushed her hair from her face. "Ok, Sarah, if you're offering to take us, I'll take the ride, cuz I sure don't want to be out in the storm." Sarah nodded in agreement. At least it had stopped snowing late last night. The sky was still stormy, but no new snow had fallen, and as such her summer class was still on.

The ride to the doctor's office was uneventful, and Sarah drove away watching Carol and Deirdre waving to her in her rearview mirror. She was thankful for school; though she was usually hateful of Mondays, school was going to be a welcome distraction from the events surrounding her life. She arrived at the junior high and absentmindedly parked. The kids were loud today and Sarah smiled despite herself. Everyone was so ignorant, none knew their world was being affected by a curse designed to destroy a man from another world, or that said curse was living in her house. She shuddered as she entered her room and flicked on the lights, so much for leaving her worries behind.

She sat behind her desk and dug into her briefcase, pulling out random binders and positioning them in front of her. Her students entered laughing and joking, and they took their seats continuing to do so, but she seemed rather oblivious. It was difficult keeping her mind on track, for all she could think about was the Goblin King and whether or not he was making any leeway on a cure and how she acutely missed his presence. That thought shook her and she looked up in shock. Had she just admitted that she missed Jareth?

The first bell rang and the class settled down, waiting for her to begin the class. Needless to say, they were stunned as she continued looking to the far wall of the room. Several students craned their necks to see what she gazed at, but there was nothing abnormal. So they just sat and waited. The tardy bell rang and they all straightened in the chairs fully expecting class to begin, but again they were rewarded with a blank look from their teacher's face.

"Um…Ms. Williams?" One of the girls asked from the front row. Her voice was enough to snap Sarah out of her daze and she lowered her gaze. All her students were staring at her, some open mouthed. What had she been doing? As she remembered, her face turned a shade of red. "You okay, Ms. Williams?" the same girl asked.

Sarah just nodded. Maybe coming to school wasn't such a bright idea, especially if she couldn't get her mind off a certain man; a certain enemy. An enemy? Why would she refer to him as such…and was he really an enemy? She was so confused. She closed her eyes and tried to block out the world. It worked for a few minutes. The classroom darkened, the faces and voices faded, but small sighs broke through the fog and she reopened her eyes to see the very confused faces of her class. Well, she thought with a little bit of humor, if I can't stop thinking of my fears, maybe I'll just voice them.

She stood gracefully, her long skirt swirling around her ankles briefly before her steps straightened the fabric. "What do you think of heroes and villains?" She was rewarded with more confused looks, but they were paying attention to her at least; it was very difficult teaching a summer reading at writing class.

"What do you mean, Ms. Williams?" A freckle faced boy asked from the middle of the room.

"Exactly what I said," she paused a moment, "What do you think of heroes and villains?" The room was silent, and Sarah thought that for a minute they were not going to discuss with her, which was a shame for she seriously needed to think, even if it was with a bunch of thirteen year olds. She began to return to her desk, dejected, when a girl's voice rang through the room.

"Well, you can't have one without the other." She said hesitantly.

Sarah eyed the girl curiously.

"Yeah," a boy next to the girl chimed in, "If there were no adversaries, there'd be no reason for a hero." Sarah rewarded the boy with a smile, "That's true," she said softly, "and as such, do heroes and villains always have to hate one another?"

The room was silent again and Sarah berated herself. Why was she forcing her students to participate in such a strange conversation, one that had _nothing_ to do with them at all? She wanted to stop all of a sudden, but a student called out, "No, not necessarily." This answer elated Sarah, "Why not?" she asked.

The girl thought a moment, biting her lips nervously before answering timidly, "Well…well, there's that expression, the enemy of my enemy is my friend…well…doesn't that mean that there have been examples of heroes and villains working together before?" The class voiced their agreement and Sarah laughed softly. She had never seen the class participate so actively…maybe she'd have to ask them strange questions more often. A hand in the back of the room lifted in the air and Sarah had to suppress a shocked expression.

The hand belonged to Vince Harrison. He was very quiet, very reserved, and though his writing showed wisdom beyond his years he was nearly impossible to engage in conversation, and when he did speak it was because she called on him, and then she was lucky if she got a sentence…and yet, here he was with his hand in the air. "Yes, Vince?" she asked effectively quieting the room.

Students turned in their desks to hear what their normally silent colleague had to say. He took it all in stride and allowed a smile to touch his hazel eyes. "The way I see it, Ms. Williams, the terms "villains and heroes" are over-rated." He paused a moment, allowing his vocabulary to translate for the other students. "See, does the villain ever really see himself as the villain? I mean, isn't he just doing what he thinks he needs to do? And the hero, well, though the hero generally sees herself as the hero, is she really?" Sarah winced at his choice of pronouns, but allowed the boy to continue. "The villain and the hero, they are much the same. They work so well together because they both want something in the end, but the villain…the villain never thinks he needs the hero, but he does. The hero would hate to think she needs a villain, but she does, so isn't it all really just a matter of perception?"

Sarah couldn't help her jaw from falling slack. Who was this kid? Another demented demon maybe? No, that wasn't fair, just because a thirteen year old seemed wiser than she didn't mean he wasn't normal. She pursed her lips together and with her hands behind her back she walked to her desk, pausing at the chalkboard a moment. "Ok, well, that was certainly interesting," she said breaking the silence. The class laughed and Sarah turned to face them. "Ok, well, let's see…how to work this into an assignment…" the class moaned and Sarah laughed. "It's a _reading and writing _class, you guys, you have to do work." She laughed at their dubious expression as she picked the chalk up and began writing instructions on the board. "It's a simple assignment, really," she continued as she wrote, "Just tell me a story. A story about a villain and a hero, from either points of view or from both, just think hard before you begin."

"What is the scene?" A voice asked and Sarah smiled, "You have just wished your brother away, and he was taken by the villain. Now, you must fight the villain for your brother, who, remember, _you_ wished away to begin with." Their faces didn't look too disappointed with her spur of the moment idea, and she smiled to them. "Ok guys, I'll be right back, I have to make a phone call." Mischievous looks spread on their faces and Sarah's expression turned stern, "I'm going to be just outside the door, so don't try anything." the faces fell and Sarah knew she had succeeded.

The chilly air was refreshing, but Sarah still rubbed her arms. "Jareth?" she called tentatively to the air. There was no answer, and Sarah felt a pang in her chest. Disappointment? Sadness? She really couldn't tell. "Jareth, I wish you were here." She tried again, when there was no answer she allowed her brows to furrow. Why wouldn't he appear? She rolled her eyes. Like he really _had_ a reason to appear, she mention to herself allowing her arms to drop to her sides. It wasn't like she was in distress, she just…well, she just wanted to see him. "Come on, Jareth," her voice began to whimper and she hated herself for it, "it'll just be a moment…" again there was no response and Sarah felt moistness on her cheek. She rubbed it away; she wasn't really crying was she? Feeling very stupid she turned to reenter her classroom but stopped as a familiar ripple reached her senses.

She turned expectantly, but froze at the sight. A man certainly stood in front of her. He was tall, standing a good hands span above her. His hair was a soft brown, matching the long robes he wore, but the most shocking feature was his eyes. They were such a vibrant blue she couldn't help but stare, her mouth agape. The most important factor though, was that this man was _certainly not_ Jareth. She eyed him curiously, there was something familiar about the man's air, she wasn't sure if it was the way he stood looking down his nose at her, or the way he leaned to one side, but either way the behaviorisms were familiar. "Um…" she really couldn't find anything to say. All she wanted to know was why this man had shown up instead of Jareth, but even _she_ knew that was rude.

The man's lips turned up in a smirk, "Say what is on your mind, Child, for I haven't all day."

Oh that accent! That clipped, short and over pronounced accent could not be mistaken for anything else other than the Underground dialect. She eyed him again, "Where is Jareth?"

A strange emotion blazed through the man's eyes momentarily before he was able to guard the expression, but Sarah had noticed. She was use to watching eyes for hidden meanings, and that expression terrified her, for it was dread. "What happened?" She asked stepping towards the man.

The smirk turned into a broad smile, "Ah, you are quick, aren't you?" He brought a hand up to his chin and tapped it briefly. "Jareth, well, Jareth is indisposed at this moment."

Indisposed? What kind of response was that? It was irritating as hell that this man spoke in the same cryptic manner as Jareth. She bit her lip. If this man in front of her was anything like the Labyrinth, she was going to have to phrase her questions very carefully. "Who are you?" Oh, that was a great question, she berated herself silently.

The man laughed. "A friend to you, of sorts," was his response. He walked around her, "I am many things, Sarah."

Her eyes widened. "How do you know my name?"

He shrugged, "A hunch," Sarah looked at him disbelievingly and this caused him to laugh again, "Oh, Jareth would not try to respond to just _any_ mortal girl; I assumed it was you he wished to see."

Well, that answered one question. "Why wouldn't you let him come?"

This girl's intelligence was stunning. "He was in no condition to attempt the crossing." He inspected his fingers and allowed his answer to fully set into the mortal's comprehension.

"What happened?" she asked again, stronger this time, and he found he liked this girl. She was very quick indeed. He met her gaze, such fire burned in those emerald eyes; it was easy to see why Jareth was so captivated with her.

"A snow storm," was what he replied. As if only now noticing his surroundings the man began to look around, walking away from her.

She frowned, "A snow storm….is everyone ok?" She wasn't just asking about Jareth anymore, she was concerned for all the creatures in the Labyrinth; her friends: Hoggle, Sir Didymus, Ludo, and the goblins, and even the annoying red furred creatures, she suddenly feared for them all.

"Oh, now why the concern?" was the man's reply, and she stomped her foot, tired of his games.

"Enough!" she said rising her voice more than she had meant to, "This isn't the time for games! How can you be so…so nonchalant when people could be dying?"

He eyed her calmly. He had baited her into reacting; he had wanted to see if she really cared for Jareth's Labyrinth. He was pleased with the outcome and turned on her, causing her to step back in shock. "Would you like to return, Sarah?"

A squeak escaped her lips and she found herself backing away from the man. He just smiled at her, and that unnerved her even more. "Under what terms?" she managed to ask.

Oh, she was a very remarkable girl. Even in moments of such evident danger she could still think. "Merely as a guest," was all he said. She watched him with narrowed eyes a moment longer before responding. "You will take me to Jareth." It wasn't really a question, and he was taken off guard by her commanding presence. He found it difficult to not grant whatever she wished for, but he pushed down the feeling and just nodded, not sure if his voice would betray his thoughts. As if thinking this over, she turned away from him. A few moments passed and she met his gaze. "Alright, Sir," she said for lack of better title and she certainly felt this man deserved a title of some sort, "I wish to see the Goblin King, but not now!" she said as he raised his hands. He paused in confusion and she continued. "I have a class in there…I've been gone too long as it is. I wish for you to bring me to the Goblin King later tonight." He was amused with her phrasing, for he was not bound by the same rules as Jareth, but he would honor the request, after all, he was filing in for the king in a strange sort of way.

"Very well, Sarah," he replied with a small nod of his head. His form began to fade, a grin in his eyes and on his lips, "until later," his soft, whispery voice circled around her, tickling her neck, but also raising the hair on her arms. She wasn't really sure if she trusted this man, in fact, she was pretty sure she _didn't_ trust him, but at the same time there was something compelling about him. Something in his mannerism wasn't threatening, merely teasing. She wanted so many more answers, but instead, all she was left looking at was emptiness and swallowing quickly she nearly ran back into the classroom.

Well, seeing as it's nearly one in the morning (I stayed up late working on this), I think I'll end it here. I'll update soon, don't worry, but I want to know you're opinions, k? They're important to me, and I appreciate them like a parched man appreciates water in a desert.


	8. A Present

And in my good fashion, this chapter contains a couple of time jumps. For example, it begins at the same time Jareth is called away from Sarah and continues to right before Sarah calls on Jareth at school…savvy? I thought I'd go ahead and explain that before it got confusing. And, I know we're all wondering about the Prophicae, and it's coming up, I promise. . So, without further ado, Chapter 17 has arrived!

Chapter 17

A Present

Addoyn, as the High Councilman, sat with his back rigid against the tall chair. He watched idly as the council discussed the day's issues, but he found himself strangely distracted. Something was tugging at him and preventing him from fully concentrating, and the smug gleam in Temnestra's eyes did not help to settle his apprehension. Impatiently he drummed his fingers across the tabletop. A few councilors noticed this odd display, but the High Councilman was the High Councilman, and they were not about to question him about a small, albeit annoying, habit.

It was hard to sit still. Addoyn felt he needed to be elsewhere, anywhere but there. He felt like a fool. During a battle at his doorstep he had been able to remain calmer than this, but his fingers tapped, his feet wanted to pace, and all his nerves were screaming to him to move. But move where? That was the question. What was pulling him so strongly it was able to interfere with the council?

Like a flood, the answer came to him. The only times he was _ever_ this distracted was when Jareth was involved. He dared another glance at Temnestra. She was being too quiet for his liking, and she had such a cruel smile in her gaze. Their eyes met, his cold, and hers joyful, and Addoyn's stomach dropped. "What have you done?" the emotion in his voice betrayed the calm exterior of his face.

The council stopped discussion immediately and they all turned their heads to the head of the table where the High Councilman and the Councilwoman sat.

Temnestra pushed her hair from her face and smiled, "What do you mean, High Councilman; I haven't done anything."

The feet of the chair screeched against the polished wood floor as Addoyn pushed away from the table. "Follow me, now, Temnestra." He said through clinched teeth and he left the chambers in a swirl of magic. Temnestra, eyeing his exit, followed suit closely behind. The councilors were very confused. Only once before had the High Councilman ever left a session early in such a flurry of commotion, only once before. They had a suspicion that this cause and the original were the same, but all they were left looking at were the empty seats.

Arriving in his private study, Addoyn waited the split second for Temnestra to arrive before he began his inquisition. "Do not lie to me, what have you done?"

Shaking her head in slight amusement, she brought a hand to her chest in mock offense. "I am not lying to you Addoyn, for lying is rather beneath me," she ignored his disgusted look, "but I cannot help but to gloat."

He narrowed his eyes on the strange beauty's form, "Gloat?"

"Oh, yes," she purred, rubbing next to him, allowing her hand to caress his shoulders, "for my plan is nearly complete. Soon, I shall be powerful, and _you_ shall be obsolete." She continued to roam his chest with her hands, smiling all the while. She trailed her fingers along his lips, and suddenly her hand was caught by his. He pulled it sensuously to his lips, never once breaking away from her stare, and when her fingers were close he placed a small kiss on each of her fingertips. It sent shivers down her spine, as did the smile that played across his lips.

"Oh, Temnestra," he said softly, "you do suffer from many delusions, but I think this is your grandest." It took a moment for his words to register for they were so honey coated it masked the true insult. She snatched her hand away and backed up. "You can't stop this, Addoyn, you can't interfere."

He smirked, "No, I _would not_ interfere; that is quite different than not being able to." It was about time he said no to her, and he enjoyed the sensation and the sweet taste of the word upon his lips, not to mention her sputtering expression. But he really did not have time to enjoy the moment, for Jareth was in danger if Temnestra was so jovial. She was only ever happy when her son's life was hanging by a thread. With a sneer, he vanished from the room, seeking the Goblin King in the Castle beyond the Goblin City.

His first thought was of the cold. It was damn near freezing in the drafty room in which he arrived. With a wave of his hand the window disappeared; replaced with bricks. The damage was done though. The room was now dark and covered in a thick layer of frost. The flames from the fire were frozen in motion, the life and warmth gone from the dancing embers. With a wave, he corrected that as well and sent the still fire roaring to life. The light helped a little, as did the heat, but he had yet to discover what he was looking for. He was sure Jareth was in the room, nearly positive. It was just a matter of finding the boy.

A very small movement caught his eye, and he choked back a yell as he saw the king. Jareth was stumbling; attempting to stand, but failing miserably and he slid down the wall back to the floor. He was near that damned window opening, white as snow. In fact, Addoyn noticed with alarm, Jareth was covered with the ice. His pale skin was bleached of color; his opened eyes were unfocused; the pupils covering the splendid color of his irises. Terrified, Addoyn reached down to the king, arriving at his side in an instant. He touched Jareth's neck but pulled back as the frozen skin burned his hand. A growl escaped his mouth and he transported the king in the large bed resting against a far wall, noticing with amused detachment how Jareth struggled against the treatment.

The covers were pulled down allowing the still king's body access to their warmth, and Addoyn brought the fur blankets up to Jareth's chin. And though Jareth fought with the covers, once he was in the bed his eyes slowly closed, his chest heaving in unnatural breathing. Addoyn sighed towards the stubborn king and placed a hand on Jareth's cold forehead, biting down his lips as the contact singed his fingers. Addoyn smiled softly and sent small amounts of energy to the plainly exhausted king. It was rewarding when several minutes later the king's chest began to rise and fall in a steady rhythm and the color returned slowly to Jareth's skin. Addoyn's success was short lived; however, as Temnestra burst into the room, hair flowing behind her, dress whipped in a breeze, and dark eyes staring down at the sight in front of her.

"How dare you?" she spat pointing an accusing finger at him. "You promised me, Addoyn, you _promised_ me!" Her eyes flared and her hands clinched into fists at her sides.

He stood from the bed, positioning himself between the mother and son and shook his head sadly. "It was a stupid thing to promise, and you know it." She scoffed. "It does not matter what you think anymore, Temnestra." He continued, gaining strength from her frightened eyes. "I have allowed you to do what you have wanted for far too long, don't you agree?" Again he was rewarded with a scoff and her unusual silence. He took a deep breath, "I am going to interfere now. I have made my choice. Even if Jareth _should_ die, and he won't, not tonight," he added quickly as her eyes danced excitedly at the sound of her son's death, "you will not gain his powers. And you _have_ no hope of over powering me, my dear," he said bitterly. He took a step forward and took another deep breath, "When he awakens, I am going to tell him what started this entire fiasco." At this, Temnestra threw herself at him, hands outstretched like claws, face distorted in anger. Though momentarily taken aback, he caught her wrists easily, only angering her more.

"You cannot, Addoyn! You CANNOT!" she screamed as she continued to fight his restrictive hold.

"And you," he said twisting her wrists harshly; causing her to cry out in pain and drop to the floor, "keep saying that, and I wonder why, for I not only CAN" he squeezed her wrists tightly and watched as her eyes glistened with tears, "but I WILL." He released her, pushing her down as he did. "If I were you I would leave now, for once he has learned the truth I doubt he will be as forgiving as I am."

Temnestra bit down on her lip hard. She was no match against Addoyn, especially in this emotion driven craze he was in, and as such she picked herself up from the ground favoring her wrists. She brushed her dress down, pushed back her hair and stood tall, meeting Addoyn's stare. "You cannot stop this, not now. The curse is too strong for him," she sneered at her son's body lying still in the bed, "and it will kill him eventually, you know that."

Addoyn shook his head vehemently. "My dear, you underestimate so much, it is quite laughable."

But he did not laugh, and neither did she. They just stared at each other. This argument was much different from their last, for Addoyn had decided a side, and Temnestra could feel the balance shift. It was a horrifying sensation. She suddenly felt very alone, but she clutched to the knowledge that soon, one day very soon, Jareth would be destroyed, and her destiny would be rewritten and she would be the ultimate power in the Underground, for after all, power was everything. She allowed a laugh from her lips, and Addoyn cringed. Any sanity that had clung to her had disappeared in that moment and he watched her leave the room laughing still.

He turned away from the sight and slowly walked back to the bed. Jareth was already looking better. His eyes had relaxed and closed and they moved slightly under his lids and the color had spread from his cheeks to his neck, but there had yet to be a sign of consciousness from the king, and this worried him. Well, it was probably best to give him some time. The residual magic Jareth must have used still lingered in the air, Addoyn could taste it, and for it to leave such a strong aftertaste it must have taken immense energy to cast. Looking around for a chair, but finding none, Addoyn silently chastised the king. Who doesn't keep a chair in their chambers? While shaking his head a leather chair appeared behind him, summoned from his own chambers, and he sat, arms folded in the green robes he had worn earlier for the council. As he sat and watched over the king, his mind began to wonder.

That was the second time Addoyn was distracted in chambers by Jareth. The first was the day Jareth was arrested for a charge of murder. In the middle of a discussion on a new bridge system Addoyn had begun to panic. He was not able to concentrate, and many times he had to ask the councilors to repeat themselves, but he heard no better the second time. After a few more minutes, the strange feeling in the back of his mind left him so frazzled he had no choice but to leave the chambers and follow the sensation.

He appeared in a vast, green courtyard fenced off from the general public. Jareth was being dragged by an armed guard of ten soldiers, led by Temnestra. At first he was confused, and then angered that she would go as far as to have her own son imprisoned and he had stepped forward to interfere, but Temnestra was fast and intercepted him, a happy smile playing across her mouth. "He was found with a dead child, a dead _human_ child. He is to be put on trial as soon as possible." Jareth would not even look up to dispute the charge, and Addoyn's hands were tied. Had the youth at least attempted right then, he would have ordered the guards to release him, but as such, he had watched as they dragged him off, Jareth with his head low, his mother practically skipping next to the procession.

Going through that doomed trial was nearly unbearable. Through it all he kept reliving the message of the prophecy. It felt like Jareth was being punished for a damned piece of paper, but he went along with the farce, for he was sure it was farce now, but at the time they _had _had very good eyewitness. Though now looking back, he felt Temnestra may have had more to do with that. It all went back to the prophecy and he sighed.

He remembered the first time he had read the damned Prophicae. A messenger had brought it from the mystic in the woods. Temnestra was beside herself, always looking at the parchment, but never quite willing to touch it. He smiled at that thought. Temnestra was different then, that was when she had always held Jareth, cradled him, sang to him, rocked him, but more than anything she had loved him. And then the Prophicae changed everything.

He had had to read it twice to understand that full text.

**The Prophicae**

The Sun borne

From mother's love is estranged

But a vast empire gained

And the parent toppled

To the ground

Yet should the dark fall

By the sun's own hand

The kingdom transferred

By love to the mother

It had taken him years to decipher the meaning, and he kept his analyzation private, but it was around that time Temnestra changed. Whenever she looked upon her son all Addoyn saw was hate, distrust, apathy, but still the boy followed like a lamb to the cutting board. It saddened him, and he constantly attempted to make Temnestra treat him better, but she always replied, "He is my son, I can do what I wish," and this was true, and Addoyn never really seemed to question the assertion.

A small moan from the king brought Addoyn away from his reverie. Well, it was about time he woke the boy up, for if Temnestra was right, they were running out of time. He sat on the bed and leaned forward, "Wake up, boy." There was no response. "Wake up, Jareth," he repeated with a small shake. "Wake, up…"

He knew he was dreaming again, for the moment he opened his tired eyes the room around him was different. Oh, it had been his room once, long ago, but he had not slept in the bed for years. His other self was sleeping soundly, blonde wisps covering his face. A voice echoed through the room, "Wake up, boy." But he ignored it; he always ignored the first call. 'Wake up, Jareth," this time, the man's voice came from next to the bed and Jareth blinked his eyes open expecting to see the man that went with the voice, but there was nothing there. That was nothing new either. He sighed and rolled over, his hand landing on something cool next to his pillow. Curiously he sat in his bed and gazed down to what his hand had touched. His eyes grew wide and he forced himself to keep breathing. There, in the grasp of his hand, was that wonderful pendant. He brought it up to his eyes and inspected the lovely curves, the beautiful symbol, and ran the chain through his hand. Upon looking down at the pillow he saw a small white paper. He frowned and picked it up and then smiled broadly, for there, in a flowing script were the words "A present." Smiling he placed the necklace over his head, vowing never to remove such a valuable gift.

Jareth pulled himself slowly from the dream. He remembered that day as bittersweet; for that was the day he was forced to appear in front of the council. He was barely twelve, and had hated the fact that he would someday have to sit on that council. That day was the day he was being presented to the councilors and was to be given lessons starting the day after. He had been born into the position, his mother was Councilwoman, and he would follow, for the seat was hereditary. That bothered him, something was not right. He suddenly felt very cold, very detached, and someone was calling to him to wake up again, but that wasn't right. Wasn't he already awake?

The room around him distorted and became a warped blur. No, he was _not_ awake, this was just another dream. He turned from the swirling room. Who was calling to him?

He followed the voice from the blackness and traced it back to the light. It stung his eyes, and he shut them tight. His senses were on fire. Lightning laced down his limbs, his muscles were tight, and the blood pounding against his ears was nearly deafening, but slowly a voice reached his hearing. "Wake up." Jareth frowned, it was that man again, that shadowing figure. He forced his eyes open, expecting to see nothing but space, and was quite shocked when a pair of blue eyes lined with concern met his own.

"Addoyn?" he began, trying to sit up, for he found he was lying in his bed. The movement was painful though, and he was forced to remain still.

"I would not try to move quite yet, Jareth." Addoyn said quietly, eyes burning. Jareth watched him a moment, wondering what could have transpired to have Addoyn in his bedroom tending to him. "What were you thinking?" Addoyn asked suddenly, and Jareth's head spun trying to comprehend the question.

"What do you mean?" he asked gruffly.

"I mean," Addoyn sighed, "what were you thinking nearly killing yourself. How much magic did you use Jareth?"

Addoyn's words were hard to follow, for his head was still fuzzy. He backtracked him mind in attempt to fit the puzzle together. What had he been doing? He had been…he had been…the memory hit him and he groaned, "Do not lecture me, old man, on energy spent, for it was a good cause."

"Oh really?" Addoyn asked, leaning back slightly.

Jareth frowned, "Yes, really. That storm nearly killed my subjects." Addoyn looked at him silently, urging him to continue. With a stiff movement, Jareth brought a hand to his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I was performing a damned translocation spell," he finally murmured.

Addoyn's eye brows shot up. Translocating one's self was easy enough, but moving more than one person; that required an immense amount of magic and concentration. "How many?" His question was met by a blank look and Addoyn sighed, "How many subject did you bring here that way?"

Jareth's eyes darted away from the man in front of him. He had known it was a foolish thing to do, he had known it was a great risk, but it was a risk he had been willing to take. "I brought them all, all I could find I brought here." Because his eyes were averted he missed the blatant look of shock expressed on the High Councilman's face.

"All of them, Jareth?" Addoyn asked quietly. Jareth was growing annoyed. His head ached, his body ached, and he was being questioned in his own bedroom and in his own kingdom which annoyed him more; however, it was Addoyn, and years of being taught to obey the High Councilman was hard to undo, so he nodded and replied, "Yes, all of them," a little more gruffly than he had meant.

Addoyn bit back a retort. No wonder Jareth was exhausted and barely able to move. Addoyn had never heard of such a massive undertaking like this. And yet, Jareth would still not meet his gaze, and Addoyn frowned, "What else?"

With a grimace Jareth looked towards the man. "Before or after?" The slight anger in Addoyn's expression startled him, for Jareth could not comprehend, especially with his mind in such a state, why Addoyn would be upset with him. "I raised a barrier over the castle after I brought my subjects here."

Addoyn shook his head, "And before?"

Jareth's head dipped, "Before?" He scoffed; it seemed so far away now, "Before I placed a protection ward over Sarah, only _after_ fighting that damned curse." Jareth really did not wish to say anymore, and with a pointed stare to the older man, he closed his eyes and lowered his head.

Something akin to pride swelled inside him as Addoyn stared, a little dumbstruck at the weak king. And a little furious, though he hid it well. Did Jareth _not _realize he could die by using that much magic? Any other person would have. Addoyn was doubtful that even he would have been able to accomplish as much, and suddenly the sheer amount of power Jareth had dawned on him and he idly wondered if even Jareth realized what he accomplished. With a small chuckle he sat back in his chair and watched as Jareth slid down into the soft pillows and blankets of the massive bed. They stayed like that, not really noticing the time, but Addoyn must have dozed off, for suddenly Jareth sat straight in his bed, his eyes focusing into the distance.

"What is it?" Addoyn asked curiously, but his only response was Jareth struggling to get out from underneath the covers. Addoyn frowned, "What are you doing, Jareth? You can't get up yet." He was rewarded with a scowl, and Jareth continued to try to get out of the bed, his hands shaking and his body quivering with each additional movement. Addoyn stood and pushed lightly on the king's shoulder. It wasn't a hard push, but Jareth collapsed under the pressure, falling softly back onto the pillows. He glared at Addoyn who laughed softly. "I told you, you can't get up. You can't even withstand an "old man's" touch." Addoyn saw the frustration in Jareth's eyes turn to despair and Addoyn repeated his inquiry, "_What_ in the Underground has got you so upset?"

"She's calling to me." Jareth's voice was so soft, a whisper lost in the room, and Addoyn was not quite sure if he had heard right.

"She's calling to you?" Jareth's head nodded and Addoyn sighed, "Well, you can't possibly go to her, not like this." Jareth frowned at him and Addoyn laughed. "Look at yourself; _you_ would not make the transfer, and you would not be able to return the both of you if you should." There was such sadness in his eyes and Addoyn scoffed slightly, "She's just a girl, Jareth…" he was going to continue, but something in the king's eyes, a dangerous glint, made him pause and reassess his remark, "Alright, an unusual girl, but still mortal nonetheless."

Jareth muttered something under his breath and Addoyn strained his hearing, "What was that boy?" Jareth rolled his eyes and faced Addoyn, "I said, 'I don't want her to think I don't care.'"

"Oh, is that all." A devilish smile spread across his face and Jareth shuddered. "I will go then, for you, Jareth. I wish to meet this "Sarah" anyway." Jareth shook his head, "I'm not sure if that's a good idea, I mean, she has never met you, you may frighten her."

"Bah," Addoyn scoffed, "I will not scare her away." He smiled as the king remained silent, contemplating. "You might as well say "Yes" Jareth, for I'm liable to go either way." Jareth nodded. He knew it was futile to argue with the man, for Addoyn was more stubborn than he, "Fine, but _do_ try to be gentle with her." Addoyn laughed at Jareth's phrasing and began to leave, but was called back when Jareth added, "and try not to be insulted by her insubordination; she's very stubborn."

"Oh, Jareth," Addoyn replied good-naturedly, "I'm sure I can handle her. After all, I was never insulted by _your_ insubordination." And with that he vanished from the room, leaving a very worried Jareth staring at the ceiling, grimacing as he heard the commotion from below. He could only imagine the mess those goblins were making. It was a rather distressing thought, but his eyelids were becoming heavy again, and this time, in the quietude of his own room, he really did not care to fight the exhaustion.

He was asleep within a few minutes and did not notice the door to his chambers slowly creak open. Nor did he notice a furry little brown bundle bounce into the room, little dark eyes searching the space. In a flash of movement the small little creature scurried from the doorway and clawed its way up the bed. It stared a moment at the sleeping king, and with a little cackle settled down within a hands reach of the king's arms. Curling in a little ball, it joined its master in slumber, and once asleep the little goblin failed to notice another creature flit into the room and position itself in a small spot of vigil atop the headrest before falling asleep as well. Very quickly the room filled, silently, which is very uncharacteristic of goblins. Each wished to be closer to the king; their savior, their life. And each wanted to know he was alright, so together, as many as could possibly fit into the large room, they slept and sat and kept an eye on their sleeping monarch. And those that could not fit into the room stayed quietly in the hall.

A/N: so…ok? Makey sensey? I hope it makes sense, cuz I worked long and hard on this chapter!


	9. Salvation

Chapter 18

Salvation

She sat with arms wrapped around her legs, knees pulled tight against her chest, her back to the wall in the bedroom which she watched with detachment. The frilly lace and the warm floral colors pleased her, but she felt very far from them. She was huddled in the corner, long black hair falling over her body and spilling messily over the floor. Absentmindedly she picked a strand up and dropped it. It was quiet in her head right now. That did not happen often, usually it was she that was quiet, but right now that odd pressure was asleep, deep in the corners of her mind, and she was happy for the moment to herself. Her bright blue eyes swept over the room. If only she could be alone _all_ the time, just her and Mommy and Sarah, that was how it was suppose to be. There wasn't suppose to be someone else with her, right? She wasn't really sure for that second voice had never not been with her, not that she could remember anyway. And that thought puzzled her; she couldn't remember a lot anyway.

With a sigh she pushed herself off the wall and smiled as she heard a door open. Mommy was already home, so that could only mean one person: Sarah! She ran out of the bedroom, her pink dress rustling softly. Rounding the corner, she jumped into Sarah's arms. It was so nice to be around Sarah. It was like Sarah chased away all the bad things; all the darkness, and she was pleased when the hug was returned.

"Hi Deirdre," Sarah said softly as she backed away, "Where's your mommy?"

"I'm in the kitchen!" was the reply and Sarah smiled putting her purse and briefcase on the ground. She was vaguely aware that two bright blue eyes were still looking up at her and she returned the gaze.

"What is it, Deirdre?" Sarah watched as the little girl squirmed a second.

"There's…there's something wrong with me, isn't there?" Deirdre wasn't quite sure why she felt she needed to ask Sarah. Maybe it was because she felt Sarah would be honest with her. Mommy just smiled whenever she asked.

A strange compassion filled Sarah and she knelt; bringing her closer to Deirdre's height. "Why do you say so?"

"Well, when I was at the doctors everyone stared at me…and Mommy…Mommy always cries…" she was silent a moment before continuing, "and…I can _hear_ it sometimes."

Sarah's eyes widened and she bit her lip, "Hear what, Deirdre?"

The little girl shook her head and squeezed her blue eyes shut. "I don't know, but it says things to me…and sometimes…sometimes I don't remember what I've been doing, and all I can see is black."

A soft smile crossed Sarah's face. So there _was_ a little girl in there. Deirdre really _was_ a little girl: lost, confused, but there nonetheless. Her eyes darkened. And they were eventually going to have to kill her if a way to destroy the curse itself was not discovered. That troubled her. This little girl…and Carol. Oh Carol. Sarah sighed and smiled sadly as Deirdre opened her eyes. Sarah stood and placed the girl's hand in her own, "Let's go talk to you mom." Deirdre just nodded and followed the slender woman down the hall and into the kitchen where Carol was scrubbing a few pots, her curly hair messily paced atop her head in a bun. She blew a stray hair from her face and smiled, "Hey, Sarah, how was work?"

She led Deirdre to the table and sat with her before considering her words. "Well…it was…eventful." She finally managed with a smile. "I had a very, VERY unexpected visitor."

Carol turned frightened eyes towards her, "Not that strange man…" her voice trailed off as Sarah shook her head.

"But…I don't know," she smiled as the man's voice echoed in her mind, "he was very…similar." Carol's brows rose and Sarah shook her head, "That's not really want I want to talk about…I need to tell you something, something really important."

"Ok…" she said turning from the dishes.

"Well, come sit down, this is going to be difficult." Sarah sat back in the wooden kitchen chair and sighed as Deirdre's eyes blinked innocently as her mother took a seat across from Sarah. Once seated, she placed her hands on the table and locked eyes with Sarah, who nodded. "Ok, first of all, I should explain who that man was, I'm sure you're curious." Carol nodded and Deirdre just looked confused. Sarah took a deep breath. This was not going to be easy. "His name is Jareth, he's the Goblin King."

As she expected it, disbelief was evident on Carol's face. "The Goblin King?" she said in a slow voice.

Sarah could not meet Carol's face and she lowered her head. "And believe it or not, that isn't the hardest part to believe." Carol's eyes widened. Well, Sarah thought, the time had come, what did she have to lose anyway? "I met Jareth years ago; fifteen years ago, I was just a stupid kid, and I wished my brother away to him."

"And that means?" Carol interrupted.

"That means," Sarah said exasperated, "That Jareth took him." She noticed Carol's eyes flit protectively to Deirdre, and Sarah shook her head, "I made him promise not to take her, but there's more."

"There's more?" Carol lowered her head, "I'm confused, Sarah. This…this Jareth…what was he doing here?" It was Sarah's turn to look at Deirdre, and Carol noticed. "What?"

Sarah was quiet a moment longer and she let her eyes linger on Deirdre who was watching both adults with curiosity. "Carol, Jareth lives in a different place, a different world called the Underground." Carol scoffed and began to rise, but Sarah grabbed her friend's hand and brought her back to the table. "I know it sounds ridiculous, and I don't have proof right now, but just trust me on this, because this is only part of what I'm trying to tell you." Reluctantly Carol sat and ushered for Sarah to continue. "Well…Jareth has been cursed, a really powerful curse too," she added quietly.

Carol shrugged, "Ok, assuming I believe you, which I _don't_ by the way; what does this have to do me?"

Sarah shook her head, "Not with you, actually." She allowed her hand to flop towards Deirdre, whose eyes widened and she squeaked.

"Me!" Carol stood and wrapped her arms around Deirdre when the little girl jumped up.

"Sarah, this isn't funny!" A reproach from Carol caused Sarah to grimace and she lowered her head a second.

"No, I suppose its not," she thought a moment, "and I'm pretty sure its not suppose to be. But that fact remains that Deirdre is the curse."

The little girl's eyes shut tight, and her mouth dropped. Carol picked up her child and glared at Sarah, "How could you say such a thing! SARAH!" Carol's voice rose as Deirdre began crying, "Why would you say such a thing!"

Sarah stood quickly and approached them both. "Because it's the truth. It hurts like hell, but it's the truth." She brushed a few strands out of Deirdre's face. She stopped crying instantly and regarded Sarah. "You know, don't you?" was all that Sarah said. Deirdre buried her head in her mother's shoulder briefly before nodding. Sarah reached out to touch her, but Carol pulled away.

"Stay away from us, Sarah."

A small tear fell from Sarah's eyes and her throat tightened. "We're trying, Deirdre." She said still staring at the little girl's form. "I promise we are."

Deirdre pulled away from her mother's grasp and fought to stand. Carol reluctantly placed her down, but regretted it instantly when the child ran towards Sarah throwing herself into outstretched arms. "I don't want to die," she whispered softly as Sarah cradled her tightly. "Oh, I know, I know," was all Sarah could say. She was concentrating too much on not crying. She barely noticed when Carol sat down resolutely on the floor.

For Carol, not believing Sarah was becoming a difficult thing. How else could she explain Deirdre's growth, her birth, everything surrounding the child was a mystery, but was it a curse? It was a terrible feeling thinking that the one thing you care about more than anything was a damned being. "Why her?" She finally managed to choke out. "If this is all true, why Deirdre?"

Sarah shook her head. "I wondered the same thing." It was silent a moment and Deirdre, still in Sarah's arms, took a small finger and pointed to the middle of Sarah's forehead, giving a little push, causing the older woman to blink.

"It was because of you." Deirdre said quietly.

Sarah's eyes widened, "What do you mean?"

Deirdre smiled a happy smile. She was able to be useful and that was a wonderfully different from feeling so helpless when the voice was awake. "It was because of you. It wanted the king, but he was so far away, it chose me because I would be close to you."

Sarah's head spun. Where was the little girl getting this information? Suddenly a light bulb clicked and Sarah placed Deirdre on the ground quickly, backing away. "You know what its thinking." It wasn't a question, it was a horrifying realization.

The little girl shrugged, "Sometimes. It says things to me, Sarah. It tells me it will destroy everything that Jareth loves, everything he cares for." Tears began to fall from Deirdre's eyes; large, crocodile tears that rolled down her chubby cheeks and splashed to the floor. "It says I will die too because I'm a child, and Jareth cares for children. And it says you will die, and Mommy will die, and the Labyrinth will freeze."

Sarah's eyes closed. The Labyrinth…she hadn't said anything about the Labyrinth. The realization hit her squarely in the chest and she slumped to the floor. She couldn't even imagine the fear Deirdre must be feeling, the dread of having a voice in your head constantly telling you of your impending doom. A soft touch to her cheek forced her eyes to open, only to see Deirdre leaning close to her. "It is asleep right now," she whispered into her ear, "it did something, and now it is quiet, but I can feel it starting to wake. I don't want it to wake up, Sarah," Deirdre's voice cracked and Sarah wrapped her arms around the trembling child. "Listen to me Deirdre, listen to me while you have the chance, and don't forget." She pulled away so she could see Deirdre's face, "Promise you won't forget." The girl nodded vigorously and smiled behind her as two more hands, her mother's hands, rested lightly against her shoulders.

"Deirdre," Sarah continued, "I want you to fight. You have to fight it, fight the curse. You have to give us time." The tears continued to fall from Deirdre's face, but Sarah noticed her cheeks were wet to, and looking up to meet Carol's eyes she saw she was crying as well. "I don't know how," was all the sobbing child could manage. Sarah grabbed her tightly again, and Carol scooted closer, arms around Sarah and Deirdre.

"Just think of me," Sarah said through sobs of her own, "Just think of your mommy, think of all the people you don't want to hurt." Deirdre nodded and Sarah heard Carol gasp for air.

"This isn't fair, Sarah." She said holding Deirdre to her tightly. The little girl wrapped her arms around her mommy's neck and hid her face away.

"No, it isn't." was her reply, and Sarah stood from the floor with a new sense of determination. She was not going to allow some damned curse destroy a little girl who had committed no crime save having a mother who was a friend of hers. That was unspeakable. She clutched her hands tightly and crossed her chest. "I'm not going to allow anything to happen to you, Deirdre." After a moments pause, Sarah took a deep breath. "And, I'm going back." She thought her words over carefully. "I wish to see the Goblin King, right now." Within a few seconds the same man in the brown robes appeared; a slight twinkle in his eyes.

"My my my, aren't you demanding," he smirked at her before noticing the surprised expressions of the other two in the room. Disgusted he turned away from them. Mortals, always so damned shocked when one appeared in this fashion. He held a hand out to Sarah, "I gather you're ready then?" Boredom soaked his words and Sarah laughed much to his surprise.

"Did you and Jareth go to the same school or something, because I swear, you act just like him." She wiped what he assumed were tears from her eyes. When he made no attempt to answer she just nodded and looked past him to the woman and child on the floor. "Be careful, Carol. The curse is getting stronger, and you won't always be able to trust Deirdre." At this, the man in brown swirled towards them, eyes blazing, mouth set tight.

"This girl is the curse?" He asked Sarah, but was answered when the little girl nodded her head. He clutched his hands tightly. It would be so easy just to destroy her now and end all of this useless suffering. Sarah seemed to notice the direction of his thoughts for she spoke aloud.

"Don't even think about it," her tone was threatening and he turned to regard her with an icy stare. Who was she to order him around? There was a deep stubbornness in her eyes, in her stance, and he nearly laughed when she, as a second thought, added, "Sir."

Under different circumstances he would have severely punished this fool for speaking to him in such a manner, especially in front of another mortal, but instead he narrowed his eyes. Jareth had warned him of her stubbornness, and he had agreed to grant this girl leniency, but he was still irked, and as such he leaned toward her. "If I were you, girl, I would learn to hold that tongue of yours." Her reaction was not what he expected at all. He expected her to cower before him, or at least look frightened, but she tilted her head and looked him over, as if seeing him for the first time.

"You're his _father_, aren't you?" She grinned as he took a step back as if someone had wounded him. There was genuine surprise in his eyes and she knew she was right when a second later a mask similar to Jareth's slid over the man's face and he watched her with disinterest.

"We should go now, if you are ready." Was all he said, and he offered his hand again. She took it now, firmly, and smiled to Carol and Deirdre as her world blurred before her eyes. She was getting vaguely dizzy, but shrugged it off, for she had only done this once before. In a second, her surroundings cleared and she felt solid floor beneath her feet. Her vision returned and she found herself standing in the middle of a throne room.

A/N: I have more written, but it was getting out of hand. Too long for one chapter, so I'll update in a couple of days. I want to thank you all very much for reading and responding, especially **Morrigana** (I love your stuff), **Alorindanya**, **Shavaineth** (I absolutely cherish your reviews), and to **Lady of the Labyrinth**: I _know_ you want me to kill Temnestra! You aren't the only one  So, just stayed tuned, and remember to review!

Nylle.


	10. Changes

Alrighty, this takes place right after the last chapter. And thank you to all who have reviewed! It makes my day!

Chapter 19

**Changes**

She smiled. It was Jareth's throne room, but…well, rather deserted as she looked around. Objects were scattered messily on the floor, and a musty smell filled the room, similar to last time, but there was no one in the room, save that man, and he was lounging in the throne. Sarah's eyes widened and she cleared her throat, stepping over a few rags and weapons as she made her way closer to him, "Look, you may be his father, but I don't think that gives you the right to sit on his throne." To her utter discern he laughed at her aloud. "It is not funny!" She replied crossing her arms, "and I think you should get OUT of his chair." She stared him down, and then again, as an afterthought added, "Sir," in a quieter tone.

Sighing, he stood from the chair, but not because she wanted him to, he told himself sternly, the damned thing was _very_ uncomfortable, but he stood nonetheless and stepped down the few levels to stand in front of her. "If you are going to continue to demand things of me, child, I suggest you call me by my name; and not by this compulsion for "Sir"." He nearly bit his lip at what he had said. He was offering her his name? Was he mad? Or did he merely see the benefits of being addressed as a normal person for once, and not as the damned High Councilman.

Sensing his hesitance, Sarah shook her head, "If you wish for me to know your name, then I will use it." At this he was quiet, and Sarah grinned, "You could call me by _my_ name; you know, instead of always referring to me as "child" or "girl"." His eyes met hers and he smirked, "Yes, I suppose I could."

Sarah laughed. What an answer, but she really wasn't expecting a straight answer from him. She turned from him as he lowered his eyes and began inspecting the room, barely hearing when his soft voice called to her, "Addoyn." She turned, not sure she had heard correctly, but he had turned his back to her, and Sarah knew he'd never say his name again. She tasted it out, wording the name a few times silently before nodding. It seemed a good name to her.

It was then that she noticed a window and she rushed over to see the beautiful labyrinth that had sprawled in every direction. A labyrinth that had haunted her dreams for the longest time, but as she reached the sill her eyes fell upon a white wasteland. The once lovely maze was completely frozen over; no green of trees could be seen, no ground at all, just miles and miles of white. She shuddered. Jareth had said something like this had happened. She looked to the once vibrant red sky and saw only clouds hanging low; she couldn't even tell what time it was, for the sun was out of view. There was a sad sigh beside her and she turned to see Addoyn staring sadly at the same sight. There was such a sad look in his eyes as he spoke, "He will be devastated to see this," he motioned his hand toward the maze.

"He hasn't seen it yet?" She asked and Addoyn shook his head, "Where is he?" She asked suddenly. He smiled to her, but said nothing.

"Addoyn, you agreed to bring me to him," her voice rose a little.

"Ah, so I did, so I did." He agreed stepping away from the window. With a wave of his hand the window disappeared and she watched the wall a few seconds more before turning and following him out of the throne room. They walked in silence around bends and turns and up stairs. The castle was a vast complex of stone rooms, hallways, and stairways, and she was thankful she had a guide for if she hadn't she would most certainly have wondered forever. They passed another window and with a small wave from her guide it disappeared again. This caused her to find her voice.

"He'll still see," she said softly. Addoyn smiled. He knew what she meant. He had purposefully removed that window to avoid the sight, but more importantly, so that Jareth would avoid the sight.

"I know." A glint in his eyes made her smile, "I can postpone though." He added with a smile.

She stopped before following him down a new hallway, and when he noticed he turned back to her. "You _are_ his father, aren't you?"

He regarded her coolly, "Even if I am, it matters little here." He began to turn again and she ran to catch up.

"It doesn't matter?" she echoed. "How does it not matter?"

"You _are_ inquisitive, aren't you?" He watched her frown out of the corner of his eye. The next corner brought them to the king's private wing of the castle, and it was quite a sight to see. The floors, the walls, the ceilings, everything was plastered by a goblin or other subject. And their voices! The decibel level was nearly unbearable as the goblins laughed and chatted and screamed and sang. There was barely enough room to breath, let alone think, and he felt Sarah grab a corner of his robe.

"What are they all doing here?" She nearly had to shout to be heard. He just shrugged, "Jareth brought them here; you can ask him to explain." They pushed through the crowd, which never attempted to move out of the way. Jareth's chamber, of course, stood at the end of the hallway, the only open door in the vicinity, but if they could not get the stubborn goblins to move it would take forever. After a few more minutes, Addoyn lost his temper and raised his voice above the noise, "Move out of the way!" The commotion stopped. The hallway grew quiet as all eyes focused on the two, and for a moment, just a moment they considered moving for these "guests", but only a moment. After that moment passed, and with a collective shrug, the goblins went about their business, not moving and not glancing up. Addoyn growled, "Stupid goblins; can't even be taught to obey."

To both their surprise they heard a laugh from the room in front of them. "Of course they won't obey you, you are not their king." The voice was heard, but the owner was not seen, but that did not stop Sarah's heart from fluttering. There was no mistaking Jareth's voice. After a moment of silence Jareth's voice rang through the hall, "Let him pass." Without stopping their noise the goblins scooted out of the way and allowed Addoyn, with a lovely mortal trailing behind, safe and quick passage down the hall.

They came to a room with open doors, the goblins coming and going, laughing, talking, jumping; the chaos was very disorienting to Sarah. So crowded was the doorway that she was forced to stand behind Addoyn as they approached the chamber.

Addoyn looked around in disgust as the goblins circled around their pacing king. It was hard not to smile at the sight though, for he was glad Jareth was out of the bed, and looking much improved as he paced the large room. But he was reminded of the goblins as one struck into his shin. "Why do you allow them to do this, Jareth, it is such a nuisance."

Jareth continued to pace, his soft gray pants swishing against his legs, his pendant swaying against his smooth chest, and his hair was flowing in all directions. With a shrug, he turned and began pacing the opposite direction. "For years this was all I've known, and…" he paused as he watched their anecdotes, "they're occasionally entertaining." He stopped pacing and turned to the councilman, "Where have you been? Did you see Sarah?"

Addoyn rubbed his face as if in deep thought, but in truth he did not want to smile. With his other hand he motioned the mortal girl behind him to be still, for at the mention of her name she pushed against his back. "I had some business to take care of in Mayair, and I thought it best to let you rest." Jareth's look of impatience was perfect, and Addoyn smiled, "As for the girl, well, she requested an audience with you."

"Really?" Jareth asked slightly taken aback, "I wouldn't have thought she would want to come back to this place." Addoyn jerked forward slightly, and Jareth raised his brows as a slender hand pushed its way past Addoyn; clearing the way for the rest of the body.

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here," Sarah said agitatedly as she literally pushed by Addoyn's form. When she finally managed to move by him she was stunned by the sight. There were so many goblins in this room it was hard to tell where one stopped and another began. They were swinging from drapes, climbing on a bed, jumping on a desk, literally bouncing off walls, but what caught her attention the most was the barely dressed king in the middle of the commotion, standing still and staring at her.

Jareth clinched his fist, "Addoyn, I would appreciate it if you would tell me when I have guests." The anger was palpable as he glared at the older man, who was seemingly disinterested. Addoyn waved off the comment, "I thought you would prefer a gift." He said with a grin that turned to a smile as the king glared back.

Sarah just stared at the two. Oh, there were differences between them. Jareth had that long, silky, blonde hair, while Addoyn's was a short brown; their eyes were different, though Jareth had the same remarkable blue in one, but their build, their voice, hell, even the way they stared each other down gave no room for error in her mind: Addoyn, without a doubt, was Jareth's father. But this was pushed aside in her mind as she realized she was still being ignored. With a sigh, she rubbed her temple, "Are you two through yet?" Both men turned their gaze to her, a little embarrassed.

Jareth recovered first, "Sarah, I'm surprised to see you here. Addoyn did not tell me he made arrangements for your visit." This last part was directed at Addoyn, who just shrugged.

Smiling, and trying her best not to laugh, Sarah nodded, "I know. I…well, I think I have some relevant information." She was trying her best to think straight, but the commotion around her was so distracting. For a second she watched in silence as a goblin tried to pounce on a tail, and only after biting it did the goblin realize it was its own. Sarah brought her hand to her head as moments later the same goblin pounded on the same tail again. A soft chuckle brought her out of her musings and she looked up to see two wonderfully mismatched eyes staring at her.

"Alright," he said softly, "they are a bit of a distraction when gathered in such a large group." He stood tall, "Listen!" His voice echoed through the room, down the hall, and Sarah clutched her ears tightly. The noise abruptly stopped and all eyes stared at their king, awaiting orders. "My wing of the castle is off limits, again," he added dryly. "Now be off with you and play elsewhere!" Beady eyes regarded the imposing form, but not one goblin moved, not one stirred. Jareth picked up a nearby goblin by the ear and shook him in the air, "NOW!" At that, the lot pushed and shoved, nearly knocking Sarah off her feet as they raced each other from the room, however, not one goblin neared Addoyn during their frantic exit. Jareth dropped the little goblin he had been holding and it scurried out after them. Jareth, surveying his work, gave a small nod. "There," he gestured to Sarah and Addoyn, "now we can talk in peace."

Sarah nodded, but Addoyn shook his head, "I still have work to do. I shall see you soon." And just like that his form disappeared. Jareth shook his head and suppressed a moan. He was about to speak when Sarah, still staring at the empty spot of Addoyn, spoke first.

"What does he do?"

Jareth was confused by the question, "Addoyn?" Now it was Sarah's turn to be confused. He had called him Addoyn…that was unexpected. A small doubt crept into her reasoning. Her confusion must have been evident for Jareth spoke again, "Sarah?" She just nodded slowly and glanced around the room as Jareth replied, "Addoyn is the High Councilman of the Underground. It is his duty to oversee the laws of all the lands."

Sarah tilted her head at that, "Like royalty?"

"Similar," Jareth thought a second more, "More like Parliament though, for there are other council members, my mother included." His voice took a hard tone at the mention of his mother and Sarah decided not to push the topic.

Biting her lip, Sarah looked once more around the room. It was a bedroom, that was certain from the overstuffed bed pushed against a wall, but other than that, it was not what she would have expected from Jareth. No elaborations; nothing out of the ordinary; except there seemed to be the remnants of a chair burning in the fireplace, and that was quiet odd. She shrugged it off, probably a goblin.

Jareth watched her as she surveyed the room. It was strange having her here, after all these years. It stirred something in him, but he was not quite sure what it was. He shook his head. "You wanted to speak to me?" he began.

Nodding her head, Sarah turned from the fire to face him, "Yeah…but not here." She gave a small gesture towards the room and he nodded in silent agreement. In a blink, the chamber vanished and she reappeared in a tall stone room, a little awed by the smoothness of the transition. No dizziness accompanied her, no disorientation at all. She glanced around the room and saw a wooden table and many chairs lining the edges. There were no windows in the room, she noticed. Only soft candles and chandeliers lit the area. Jareth stepped from beside her, fully dressed in a beige shirt and black pants, and escorted her to a chair, which she accepted and continued to look around.

Jareth took a seat near her and threw his boots onto the table and leaned back in the chair, hair falling around his face and down his shoulders. "I think this room was meant to be a conference room of sorts, but the only use I've found for it was to feed the goblins. It might be interesting to use it as it was meant to be." He added lightly.

Sarah watched him with avid curiosity. He was different here, in his own domain, more open. Oh, his arrogance was still there, but tempered by something else, something she could not put a finger on. She shrugged to herself; there was a lot she didn't know, but she got the distinct impression that this was not the same king she had met all those years ago. Well, anything can happen in fifteen years time, she thought, and hadn't he already proved he wasn't the same man by saving her and not letting her drown? A small drumming caught her attention, and she looked down at Jareth as he thrummed his fingers on the table, clearly impatient. Smoldering a laugh, she sobered as she remembered the reason for her visit, "I don't think Deirdre is the curse." She blurted.

Jareth's fingers stopped in mid air, and he placed his hand on the flat surface of the table. "Sarah, I felt it and I saw it, there is no mistaking."

Sarah shook her head, "No, that's not what I meant." She thought a moment, "The curse is _in_ Deirdre, but today, I talked to Deirdre, the little girl, without the curse." Jareth stared at her with cold, impassive eyes that nearly made her shudder, but at second glance, she realized he was looking past her to something she couldn't see. His fingers tightened to a fist.

"Alright," he said through grit teeth, "I suppose knowing she really is a _host_ and not a source lessons the burden."

"How so?" Sarah asked leaning forward. She watched as Jareth rubbed his temples with a gloved hand. He looked so tired there, and it frightened her to see lifelessness in his eyes, in his face, even his hair seemed to droop. "Come on, Jareth, this is good news, right? Doesn't that mean we won't have to kill Deirdre?"

"We still have to destroy the curse. The only way to do that is to kill its host." His eyes darkened and he lowered his feet to the ground and rested his elbows on his knees. Why was he fighting? Maybe he should just give in and allow the curse to destroy him. Surely one life was worth the sacrifice. Did he really have much to live for anyway? A castle full of goblins, a mother who abhorred him, a society that shunned him, he grimaced, nothing like a little self realization to brighten the day. His eyes clouded over and for a second a pressure on his hand seemed imaginary, but he focused and opened his eyes. He was met with bright green eyes shining up at him, a slender white hand over his, and she smiled at him.

"Don't give up, Jareth," she said softly. Had she been reading his mind? She smiled again and leaned back into her chair, "And don't even _think_ about sacrificing yourself." Her tone had hardened and she stared him straight in the eyes. He smiled softly at that. So, she had finally managed to read through him. That was unexpected. He stood from the table and turned from her. She kept surprising him, kept catching him off-guard; it was unnerving and somewhat stimulating. And had there been a touch of caring in her voice? He smiled at that, and turning to her remained smiling.

"How long are you staying, Sarah?" He asked genuinely curious.

A little taken aback by the abrupt topic change she blinked. "I hadn't really thought about it… I have school tomorrow."

"Aren't you a little old for schooling?" he interjected.

She laughed, "I teach, I'm not attending."

A thoughtful expression crossed his face and he brought a hand up to tap on his chin, "Yes, you always did have great patience." There was no mocking tone in his voice. He had seen her with her little brother and how she had befriended the goblins in the Labyrinth; she was very patient all things considered.

Her eyes widened at the compliment. "Thank you." He just quirked a brow and smiled to her before clasping his hands around his back. A thought was circling in his head, a strange thought. Wouldn't it be nice if she stayed…, he was lonely, but he really did want her to stay, he paced away from her. Now was not the time to be distracted, especially when Sarah could be put into danger because of it, and he was a little angry at himself. He paced a few more times and Sarah smiled. He always did that when he was upset.

"You know," she began by breaking the silence, "I'd love to stay for dinner at least, if that's ok with you…"

He turned to her, but she was ready for the movement and didn't flinch. A strange twinkle danced in his eyes and he smiled that beautiful bright smile. "That would be wonderful."

**A/N: Well? What did you think? I knew you guys would figure out about Addoyn, but I thought I'd still put it in there. But while we're on the topic, do you think Jareth knows? And I want to apologize if some of my logic is scattered. I write this with my best friend who has been editing my stuff for some 8 years now and knows the way my head work, so if there are missing gaps, sorry! **

**For example:**

**Lady of the Labyrinth: The curse isn't really sleeping…its lying dormant, but to a five year old it would be the same as sleeping, k? It's not up to full power yet, so when it sent the storm to the labyrinth it exhausted its resources. Hope that clears that up.**

**And on a completely unrelated note: Dahja, my dog, is going to be TWO years old on Wednesday. Man! Time flies!**


	11. So That's A No?

Enjoy!

Chapter 20

**So That Would Be A No?**

It turned out that dinner would not be for another couple of hours, and as such Sarah asked for a small tour around the castle, something to pass the time. Jareth had shrugged and said there was not much to see, but after a few moments of encouragement he had agreed, and that led them into a wonderfully decorated room. It was longer than it was wide and had a domed roof with mosaics of scenes she did not truly understand. The landscaping was beautiful though, and she stared at them with her mouth open. Jareth smiled his crooked smile as Sarah stood transfixed under the ceiling. Those pictures were truly remarkable; he had stared at them like she was many times before. Gently, he took her hand and pulled her further into the room, smiling as she snapped her eyes downward and pouted. "There is more to see." He paused mischievously, "You do want to see, don't you?"

Sarah nodded instantly. She couldn't help herself, this place, this room in particular, made her feel like a kid in a candy shop. They passed a tapestry and Sarah paused. It was of a beautiful castle; white as could be. The artist was truly gifted for not only was the castle white, but the white itself seemed to reflect thousands of colors. A sturdy wall surrounded the castle, but she could still see the bustle of people coming and going from the open gates. She turned her attention back to the castle and gaped at the towers and the expanse. Jareth smiled, "That is the Palace Mayair."

"Mayair?" Now why did that sound familiar? She turned to look at Jareth, confusion on her face.

He nodded towards the picture, "That is where Addoyn resides," with a hand he pointed to the tallest tower, "here."

Sarah nodded. Now the name seemed familiar. Addoyn had told Jareth he had been in Mayair. It looked so beautiful on the tapestry; she could only imagine the brilliance in person. Maybe one day, she thought to herself.

She turned away from the tapestry and a large painting caught her attention a few feet away. It was a full length portrait and it stood taller than she. With a stifled gasp she approached it slowly and stared wordlessly. It was a woman with long, blonde hair that fell in luxurious waves down her back and onto the floor, spreading like a train. She was wearing the brightest blue dress, and she was painfully pretty, but what caught Sarah's attention more than anything were the eyes. Inside that portrait stood a woman with one green and one brown eye and a smile that could sooth all fears away. She hesitantly raised a hand to touch the painting, but frowned when a gloved hand clutched hers tight, forbidding her access.

"That is Temnestra," he said softly as he gazed at the picture. She nodded and he dropped her hand. "That was taken long ago…" he smiled inwardly. Before he had been born, back when she was actually happy, she did not look like that anymore though, at least, never to him. He sighed and turned away from that painting. Sarah walked next to him, a burning question in her mind. She opened her mouth to speak, and was silent as he spoke instead. "Yes, that is my mother." She kept her mouth open, but this time in awe. His voice was lined with emotion whenever he spoke about his mother, but rarely was there hate there; more of a longing. She could understand that, her mother had abandoned her years ago. It was a strange sort of longing one experienced for a parent. It was mixed with absolute loathing, but absolute love at the same. She understood that all too well.

Abruptly he stopped, and lost in her own thoughts, she ran into his back, blushing and looking down at her brown sandals as he smirked at her. Walking around her and tapping his fingers together he pointed to another picture, one with a beautiful beach. A wicked grin appeared and he leaned to her, "Would you like to actually see these places?"

Sarah grinned wide and pointed to the rolling waves in the picture, "Go there?" To his nod she smiled and nodded emphatically, "That would be…" her voice was suddenly drowned out by the crashing of a wave on the beach and she finished with a "great," as she looked around in awe. The sun was warm on her face, and the wonderful sea smell filled her senses. The sea was a brilliant crystal blue with green flashes of the deep as the sun, past its zenith, began its curve downward. Sarah was thrilled. It had been years since she had visited a beach. She began to thank Jareth, but when she looked around, he was not near her. She turned towards inland, and there was no king, so she turned her gaze back to the waters, and a few feet off she sighted the king walking barefoot along the surf. She picked up her deep blue skirt and strolled closer to him. Close, but far enough from the waters to avoid getting wet.

"Walk by me," he said to her without facing her.

She shook her head, "I'll get wet."

He stopped and tilted his head slightly and indicated the soaked legs of his pants. "Your point?"

She pointed to her skirt again, "I'll get _wet_!" To her utter shock he grabbed at her with an outstretched hand and pulled her into the water, "my shoes!" she squeaked and instantly they disappeared causing the waves to lap against her feet. Expecting freezing water she held her breath, but sighed in relief as the water proved mild. She attempted to hold her skirt above the water, but it was in vain and with a sigh she dropped the fabrics. "Happy now?" She tried to sound annoyed, but she failed and he just gave her a sideways glance before continuing walking along the shore and she followed. A few birds called above their heads and she turned her gaze upward and then out to the see, the sun cast sparkling diamonds dancing on the waters. "Oh," she sighed happily, "it has been such a long time since I've been to the beach. Do you like the beach?" She blushed as she realized the absurdity of her question. Of course he liked the beach; here he was walking along it.

He saw her flush and nodded, "I use to come here often."

"Why did you stop," she asked pushing her hair away from her face and holding it at the nape of her neck with a hand. She was startled when he handed her a ribbon and with a smile she accepted it and tied her hair tightly out of her way.

"I was banished to the Labyrinth eons ago," he replied lowering his hand.

"And you're not now?"

That wicked grin appeared again, "No, they re-sentenced me and now I am ignoring that first sentence."

She paused, "The first punishment was the Labyrinth?" He nodded and she continued, "I thought it was your kingdom…" She was confused and Jareth laughed. "After a fashion," he replied. Sarah scrunched her nose, "What was the second punishment." Jareth's eyes darkened and she watched as he clinched his jaw. "The curse?" she offered and when he nodded she took a deep breath, "Well, then, on to more pleasant topics." She was curious, she would be a fool not to be, but it was such a wonderful day, and the salt in the air was invigorating, and she was not going to waste a precious moment dwelling on that curse right now.

Jareth agreed full heartily. "Well," he began as he placed his hands behind his back, "how is your brother?"

"You remember my brother?" Sarah asked not bothering to hide her surprise.

"Why shouldn't I?" he asked as he stopped to look at her. She paused and bit her lip, "I don't know…it seems like a long time ago."

With a smirk he shook his head, "Not that long ago at all. Come now, tell me."

Laughing, she absentmindedly bent down to her knees and reached into deeper water as a wave brought a colorful seashell onto the shore. "He's a normal, sixteen year old pain in the ass."

Jareth saw the large wave coming up the beach, and he saw Sarah leaning down inspecting a shell, but he just stepped a few feet back and watched as the wave crashed over her, soaking her and pulling into the water. With a shriek she fell backwards and she screamed again as a second wave splashed over her head. He couldn't help himself and he laughed as a piece of seaweed fell into her face. A handful of water was splashed on him and he laughed again as a very wet Sarah attempted to stand from the water, but her skirt was wrapped around her ankles and the next wave sent her back into the water, causing more laughter from the king.

"THIS," she said pointing to her soaked clothes, "is _not_ funny!" He sobered as he approached her and extended her a hand, mirth shining in his brilliant eyes. "You had better not laugh again," she spoke lightly as she accepted his hand and allowed him to help her out of the water. He walked her back to the shore, and waited as she tried to ring the seawater out of her blouse and out of her skirt, but as a piece of seaweed clung tightly to her curling hair he had to laugh, and he did as he reached towards her and picked the plant from her hair. Suddenly he was very close to her, too close and she looked up with a small amount of surprise on her face as he reached out to her and pulled the seaweed from her hair. She took a quick breath, "Thank you."

Jareth was about to respond, but Sarah's eyes flitted to something behind him, something important by the way she frowned and so he turned and suppressed a groan as he saw Addoyn leaning against a rock, light beige robes resting on the sand. His arms were crossed across his chest and he watched them idly before speaking, "Am I interrupted something?"

Sarah shook her head, "No." Jareth just glared at the figure, and Addoyn pushed off against the rock.

"May I have a word with you, Jareth?" It was not really a request, Jareth knew the tone; it was a command. Addoyn was merely being pleasant in front of Sarah, so Jareth nodded and turned to Sarah who frowned at the thought of being excluded.

"Wait here," he spoke softly and walked toward the High Councilman, out of her hearing. "What could be so important that you would search for me here?" Jareth asked aggravated.

"Temnestra," Addoyn replied as walked to the other side of the rock further from the mortal girl. "She has not been seen lately."

Jareth frowned, "She always was one to pout if things did not quite go her way, perhaps this is just a fit."

Addoyn shook his head slowly, "She has never missed a session, Jareth, and today she did not arrive." Jareth scowled and crossed his arms, "Well, what would you have me do about it? She certainly hasn't come to see me," he added bitterly.

"Send the girl home and help us search." He saw the king's expression, and saw the protest and he cut it off with a harsh gesture. "She is not safe here, and if you do not send her home, I will."

"Not safe here?" Jareth repeated, "You would have me send her back to the safety of Deirdre?" He asked exasperated.

Addoyn stared at Jareth. There was more going on behind that mask than the unwillingness to let her leave, but at that moment, he was not interested. He shook his head, "'Deirdre' is probably the safer of the two poisons at this moment, so send her home." His voice developed an edge and Jareth tried not to wince as he shook his head. It was downright painful disobeying Addoyn, but he found his voice, "No."

With a sigh, Addoyn leaned against the rock again, "Do not be difficult, Jareth. You have placed a spell on her, have you not?" Reluctantly Jareth nodded and Addoyn continued, "Well then, she should be safe enough for a while." He saw the hesitance in Jareth's eyes and he growled, "I am not asking you, Jareth, I am telling you. The girl's bargain was with me, and I could return her any minute," he paused as Jareth's mismatched eyes turned cold and continued speaking, attempting to soften his words, "I am allowing you to return her, and I expect it done." With that, he turned from the king and walked forward, fading as he stepped further away until nothing remained.

Jareth turned from the sight and pounded his fist into the rock, jumping as he heard a small gasp. He turned and he saw Sarah standing a few feet away from him, "I thought I told you to wait there." His voice was harsh and she stopped cold.

"I saw him leave…" Jareth's eyes would not meet her own and she closed the distance between them, "What's wrong?" She reached out to touch his arm, but he turned from her.

"Nothing is wrong, and it is time for you to return to your own world now." His voice was emotionless, and he kept his back turned, fearful she would see the anger raging inside him.

"Hey!" She shouted at his back, "I haven't done anything, Jareth! Don't take it out on me!" He turned on her, and she took a step back as his eyes locked on hers. They were smoldering, and his hands shook at his sides as he clinched them tight. With a blink she was in a different surrounding again, but it was at least recognizable, for her bed was there and she could see through her window, but she was confused as the king began to leave without another word. She reached out and grabbed his elbow, stopping his exit. "Wait, Jareth. Honestly, what have I done?"

He turned to her and she was relieved to see the anger fading from his eyes and from his face. "I have been ordered to return you Sarah; it was not of my choosing." He lowered his gaze and Sarah got the distinct impression of a young boy wriggling when he was caught doing wrong. He smirked, "You know how to call me." She nodded and silently released his arm, "So I guess that's a "No" to dinner tonight?"

He smiled, "Maybe another time Sarah," to his surprise she pointed at him and narrowed her eyes, "Damn straight, Goblin King. I'm holding you to that!" She smiled brightly at him and he returned his own with a slight bow before he vanished from her room. She stared at the empty spot and then crossed her arms. It was then she noticed her clothing was dry and as she picked up her feet she noticed her sandals had returned. She shook her head and laughed as a piece of seaweed stretched across her dresser.

**A/N: I did this chapter for two reasons: A. I like Jareth and Sarah and 2. This is the calm before the storm! Tell me what you think!**


	12. The Storm

**A/N: Thank you to all who responded so far. This chapter is a bit long, and may be a bit confusing cuz there are a lot of things happening at once, but hey, like I said, we were coming up to a storm! So without further ado!**

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Chapter 21

**The Storm**

Sarah curled up on her bed and dragged a pillow into her arms as she watched the sky brew outside her window. It had started to snow again about an hour ago and now a full blizzard was raging outside. She yawned and got the distinct impression of jet lag from the transportations. It had been four in the afternoon when she had left home with Addoyn and she couldn't possibly tell what time it had been in the Labyrinth, but on the beach it had been around three. And now, as she looked at her clock, it was six in the evening. Exactly how many time zones did she cross in one day?

And she recognized the absurdity of the conversation she was having with herself. It was merely a distraction. A distraction from the king, from his plight, and a little more importantly, her plight, for she occasionally would hear Carol and Deirdre speaking from another room. She had no desire to see them; no desire to be confronted with the awful reality that things were not what they should be. Well, that was an odd way to put it, she admitted, for who was she to decide what _should_ and _should not_ be? And in a strange way hadn't this whole curse business brought her back to the Underground and back to a certain Goblin King?

That thought made her blush. She truly never forgot him; he was always with her in the back of her mind. Every time Toby would strain her nerves she thought of the arrogant and gorgeous king. But she would never wish Toby away again, she had learned her lesson, but when she was younger she would sit for hours in her room staring at the wall. She smirked to herself, "Obsessed much, Sarah?" She said with a laugh. Her hair began to fall into her face again and she pulled the satiny ribbon from her locks and brought it forward so she could see. It was just a simple blue ribbon, but the thought behind it was immense. Smiling she stood and tied the ribbon in a bow around her door knob. "Good luck!" She said to it. A strange thump from outside her door startled her into stepping back and with a frown she pulled the door open and peered into the dark hallway. There was nothing strange, nothing out of place, but something nagged at her, something told her to turn around and run back into her room, or better yet, run out of her apartment.

But she was never one to run, so she swallowed her fear and stepped from her room into the corridor. She was about to call out, but decided against it. If she was quiet perhaps she could sneak up on it…that thought chilled her to the bone. The curse was quite awake, she could feel it and taste it as she made her way to the second bedroom past the bathroom. Sarah quickly crossed the bathroom and hesitated with her hand on the doorknob of the second bedroom door. She contemplated her action a second, but the decision was made for her as the door swung inward on its own accord. A strange blackness swirled in the once colorful room, like all the brightness was being sucked into a hole. Sarah froze when she saw Deirdre standing by the bed: too tall for a five year old…in fact, Deirdre looked much as she had at the age of fourteen, but with much, much longer hair. Oh, this wasn't good. Sarah was about to speak, but Deirdre snapped her eyes forward and with a wicked grin made a pulling motion with a finger. Without any thought on her part Sarah followed and winced as the door slammed behind her.

"Hello Sarah," Deirdre spoke, but it was not a normal voice. It worked on several different levels of perception. Sarah could hear and see and smell and taste the words and they were awful, black, horrid and vile. "Where have you been? We have missed you," Deirdre said circling Sarah's still form.

Finally Sarah found her voice, "I was out," she said lamely but defiantly. Suddenly Deirdre was in front of her, staring at her with eyes like no mortal has. There was no pupil, nor iris, no white around the eye; it was just a black liquid pool that shimmered and sloshed. Sarah was horrified and she looked away, causing the being in front of her to laugh.

"I thought you would be stronger than that," Deirdre said stepping back, "Didn't you think she would be stronger than that?" She asked the air around her and Sarah looked around in apprehension as the air shimmered and a woman appeared, a woman from a picture and Sarah felt her blood freeze. In front of her, in a black robe stood Temnestra, and her mismatched eyes watched Sarah's every breath.

"Yes," she said slowly, "I had thought she would be stronger than that." Temnestra approached Sarah and caressed her cheek, and leaned in to smell the mortal. A dangerous look washed over her face, "You smell of my son. What did he do to you?" Before Sarah could answer, Temnestra spun her around so Sarah was facing away from her, and she held Sarah's arms down to her side. "It doesn't matter anyway, does it?"

Deirdre snaked forward, the long black hair flowing behind her like a breeze had picked up in the middle of the bedroom. Sarah watched with horror as she caught a glimpse of silver in Deirdre's white hand. She tried to fight, tried to wriggle free, but her body did not move and she watched silently as Deirdre brought the knife up and plunged it downward. Sarah shut her eyes and prepared for the worst. She awaited the pain and the darkness, and she continued to wait, but when she never felt the blade slice into her she opened her eyes. It was not a very comforting sight however, for the blade was mere inches from her eye. She screamed and tried to push back, but Temnestra's arms held her tight. Deirdre brought her arm up and thrust it downward again and again the blade stopped inches from Sarah's eyes.

Temnestra sighed in disgust, "He placed a spell on her." Deirdre lowered her hand and stepped back and Temnestra released Sarah roughly leaving Sarah in the middle of the snake's pen; arms wrapping around her to afford some comfort. Temnestra paced around Sarah as Deirdre leaned against the bed frame, lips curling in disgust as she spoke, "Let us see now, what are the extents of this spell, hmm, little girl?"

Sarah shook her head, "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Temnestra mocked, and Sarah shook her head and tried to keep the fear out of her eyes. Temnestra thought a moment, hands on hips, before quickly striking out at Sarah with a fist. Sarah's eyes widened, and she tried to step back, but she was powerless and she watched the fist come closer to her face, but at the last possible second Temnestra's hand was deflected and Sarah stood a few feet back, gaping and trying not to scream.

Deirdre pushed herself off the bed, "It's a protection spell, how adorable." Temnestra nodded and reached out a hand again and gently brushed Sarah's loose hair away from her face, "Quite." A knowing smile spread on her thin lips and Temnestra turned to Deirdre, "How would you like a new host?" At this she stood around Sarah and draped her arms over her, "A nice, strong, one?"

Deirdre licked her lips, "That is a marvelous idea, Temnestra. Should we ask her?" Deirdre stepped close to Sarah, who stood captive by Temnestra's arms. "Would you like that Sarah?" Sarah shook her head and Deirdre appeared to pout, "No? We could have so much fun together, don't you think?" Again Sarah shook her head, but she was unable to form any words. Her mind was racing. She was literally at the mercy of these two beings, and at their hungry looks she doubted very much she would _get_ mercy. And if the choices were between death and being a host Sarah was at a loss either way. She was still aware of Deirdre's presence, and she parted her lips to speak, "Jar…"

Deirdre put a finger to Sarah's lips, "Oh no, not yet, we can't have you calling him yet, will you agree?" Sarah shook her head and began to speak again, but this time she found her mouth covered by Deirdre's in a sickening kiss. She tried to push away, but she only heard Temnestra's laugh, and it seemed so far away. Everything seemed very far away, and she felt smooth fingers prodding and searching her mind, all her thoughts, her memories, her feelings, they were being broken into, and at the same time she felt herself being pushed away; pushed far away in a dark corner. It was dark, but comfortable, and Sarah sat quietly curled in a ball wondering if she had always been here.

* * *

Another empty room, another dead end; Jareth waited patiently before Addoyn appeared in the room, "She's not here." Jareth was growing aggravated and Addoyn's expression showed much of the same. The room was just a simple sitting room in a simple town cavern where minutes ago Jareth had traced his mother's signature from a similar room across the country. "This is pointless, Addoyn, she's just toying with us."

Addoyn nodded slowly, "She _was_ here though, wasn't she?"

Jareth shrugged, "I don't know. This whole thing is strange. Like, she's keeping us busy; keeping our focus off something else." His eyes clouded over and he lost his focus. Something was wrong, he could feel it, and there was a nagging in the back of his mind that screamed to him. Addoyn noticed his faraway gaze as well, "Follow your instincts then, Jareth. It has to be better than chasing shadows."

And Jareth did just that. He reached out with all his senses and questioned the magic around, asked it, prodded it, begged for any information available, and he found himself transported into a new surrounding. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but as he blinked he was standing in a familiar room, one he had just left a few hours beforehand. He was standing in Sarah's room, but there was no Sarah. But with a shudder he knew there was curse, and he smelled his mother as well. Without waiting for Addoyn Jareth stormed out of the room and in a few paces he stood before the bedroom down the hall. He did not bother opening the door with his hands, for his anger was nearly out of control and the excess energy exploded the wood allowing him access to the room.

For a moment he thought his eyes were deceiving him, for it was a strange sight. His mother's arms were wrapped around Sarah and Sarah was being kissed by another woman, it took a moment to focus and realize it was no ordinary woman, but Deirdre, and he instantly pulled them apart. Deirdre fell limply to the ground, a bundle of limbs and hair, but Sarah stood tall and smiled. Jareth took in her expression and backed away. It was not right; there was too much malice in that smile, too much evil in the eyes. It was then he noticed the eyes. Replacing Sarah's normal emerald orbs shone black masses, dark and cold and he suppressed a shudder as his mother's icy laugh filled the room.

"Too late, my son, too late!" Temnestra said as she released her hold on Sarah and spun away gleefully.

Jareth felt Addoyn's presence, he also felt the anger and was shocked when Addoyn appeared before Temnestra pinning her against the wall, "Have you gone insane, Temnestra?"

* * *

Jareth tried to pay attention, but a hand reached out and touched his chest, the light touch trailing down his torso before he caught the hand in his own and stared down at a very beautiful Sarah smiling up at him. "You want this body?" she spoke suggestively. The body may have been the same, but the voice was nothing alike, this voice was filled with hate, filled with darkness and Jareth pushed her away; causing a laugh. "You could have it you know," she replied and laughed again as Jareth narrowed his eyes. 

"Where is Sarah?" He demanded, and the figure before him danced in a small circle, "Oh, she is safe, here, for the while." She continued to dance around him, a strange beat heard only by her ears and Jareth grabbed her arm and held her still, "Let her go." 'Sarah' gave him a sideways glance and pulled away from him, continuing her dance. "You still are not in any position to make demands of me, Jareth."

He cringed as he said her name. Sarah, the real Sarah, was still in there somewhere; he could not harm this body, not in the slightest without harming her as well, at that was not acceptable. He could not harm her, but perhaps he could reach her, "Sarah," he called using his magic to push his presence through to her. "Sarah, can you hear me?"

* * *

Addoyn watched detached as Jareth stood with Sarah, though he could tell it was not the real Sarah, but he was busy holding Temnestra down, for every second she was trying to escape, but he was fast and cut off her exit, binding her to stay. She glared at him and he shook her slightly, "Have you gone insane, Temnestra? Surely this is not what you wanted to happen?" 

She writhed under his grasp, "What do you care, Addoyn? Going to pretend to be a father for once?" Her insult rewarded her with a push against a wall, but she just laughed. "You always were sensitive about that."

"Temnestra," he began softly, "where have you gone?" His soothing voice caught her off guard and for a second they were in a different time, a time when he had stood next to her with his arms wrapped around her lovingly, not holding her captive. And she responded to this tone. What was she doing? Why was she fighting with Addoyn, who for all accounts was her love and her light? She frowned and searched Addoyn's blue eyes for answers, but it was the scene behind him that snapped her back to reality. Addoyn saw the change in her eyes again and braced himself for a fight.

* * *

"Sarah…" she could hear the name being called. It was like a beacon and all she wanted to do was follow it to its source. "Sarah," it repeated and she found herself standing, "Yes!" She shouted, "I'm here!" She looked around in the darkness and found no one and a heavy feeling pushed down on her chest. She was all alone, no one wanted her, no one cared, and she slowly gave in to this feeling and slumped back down to the floor. "SARAH!" This time the voice was clear, and she snapped her head towards the sound. It was a man, a man she should remember, but she could not picture him clearly, she could not remember. Her name was called out again, and she stood to walk closer to the sound. She _would_ find him, for he was searching for her. She _had_ to find him, she felt so empty without him. 

"Stop!" Cried 'Sarah' in agony as she brought her hands to her head and kneeled to the ground. Jareth advanced on her, "It _will_ stop as soon as you release Sarah. She's still in there," with this he placed his hands on 'Sarah's face, "Sarah!" He cried out to her and 'Sarah' recoiled and her face contorted as Sarah's real voice sang into the air, "Yes! I'm here!" But she sounded so far away, like she was in a tunnel. 'Sarah's face contorted again and black eyes stared back at Jareth, who did not remove his hands, "Come on Sarah." Again 'Sarah' attempted to flee his touch, "Stop!" she screamed.

Jareth pulled the body close to him, "Release her!" He felt her shake her head and he gathered as much strength as he could and projected his image to Sarah, deep inside her mind.

* * *

Temnestra growled as she saw 'Sarah' slump to the ground, "He can't be allowed to do this! I WILL rewrite my destiny!" She shouted to Addoyn, who sadly watched her, "Don't you think you have rewritten enough, Temnestra?"

She shook her head, eyes flashing, "Not nearly enough! I would change everything if I could," something inside of her ached as she said those words, deep in her chest, and she brought a hand to her heart, gasping for air.

Addoyn gave a knowing smile, "It is very hard to lie to one's self, Temnestra, you should know that." She glared at him and he just lowered his gaze. It was hard to look into those eyes where nothing but hatred lived when for so long all he had seen was adoration and love. "Try and come back, Temnestra." He cupped her face with a free hand, startling her and she stopped fighting for a brief moment enjoying the sensation, but in a moment it was gone, and Temnestra pushed him away, allowing a moment for her to vanish.

* * *

Sarah began running. She saw brilliance before her and she ran full speed through the darkness to this shining hope of salvation. And suddenly she saw him, not clearly, but she saw his outline and she remembered, she remembered everything. He was standing, a hand outstretched to her, and without a second thought she reached for him, smiling as her fingers found his and her world exploded in white light.

As the light dimmed she found herself pressed against soft fabric and felt heavy breathing as well as a pair of arms wrapped around her. She looked up slowly and saw golden hair and sharp features, but he was not looking at her and she followed her gaze. A black shape, a dark mass, was circling the room, and made a dive down to Deirdre's form, and Sarah shouted out, "I wish the goblins would take Deirdre away right now!"

With a grin from Jareth the body disappeared and the black figure screamed and recoiled. A black hooded figure, Temnestra, Jareth thought detached, laughed through the scream. "You do not need her anyway. I am more than willing!" The curse paused in the air and then suddenly dived into Temnestra, even as Addoyn shouted in protest and Jareth shut his eyes as his mother's green and brown eyes shimmered into a dark pool. A wicked grin appeared and this 'Temnestra' bowed low to Addoyn, "Go on, and help your son," was all the multilayered voice said before vanishing from view, quite content with the mess she had left in her wake.

* * *

**A/N: Yep! I'm leaving it there for now! I have to go to work and this seemed as good a place as any to leave it! And now, for thanks:**

**Morrigana: You know I love your stuff too! And it was a blatant homage!**

**Solea: Thank you, that was what I was aiming for!**

**Theshadowcat: Hope this didn't disappoint**

**Shavaineth: Don't be so hard on him! Sheesh!**

**Moonjava: Thank you**

**Lady of the Labyrinth: OF COURSE I couldn't just kill Sarah…now Temnestra…well, we'll just have to see about that one!**

**Alorindanya: Thanks much!**


	13. Thirteen O'Clock

**A/N: Hey, look at that...chapter 13 and Thirteen O'clock..I swear I didn't notice that until right now. Anyway, here ya go, a new chapter with a LOT and I mean a LOT of time jumps, but I think it came out alright.**

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* * *

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Chapter 22

**Thirteen O'clock**

_Breaking news: The recent string of blizzards has baffled and frustrated the most talented of meteorologists. There still is no theory as to why these violent storms have appeared, nor are there any ideas of when they might dissipate. The economies are already failing as the strongest storms have been raging for several weeks now. The Third World Countries are creating massive graves daily, for hundreds of children and elderly are being killed by exposure or famine. The winter weather has shortened food reserves and has caught many off guard. The entire aviary is flying south, but the south is faring no better than the north. Along the coast of California and Mexico, hundreds of humpback and blue whales are beaching and dying._

_Many of the cities are locked in snow, all the airports, seaports and train depots are permanently closed, and one can only wonder, what will happen now? Has mankind met its match by a storm? God have mercy on us._

_

* * *

_

**Thirteen O'clock**

Sarah snuggled deeper into the fur blankets covering her form and she sighed as she fought the urge to wake. It was so peaceful in her slumber, and truth be told she was still tired, but her mind was working too fast to sleep for long. She had managed to push all the insanity away from her in sleep and had enjoyed the calmness of slumber greedily. It was anything but calm in reality, and for a few minutes more she wished to avoid reality, for it had smashed into her with a force so strong she cringed at the thought. A sigh from the other person in the room caught her attention and she lowered the fuzzy covers and glimpsed at the king as he sat at his desk. He looked utterly defeated, his hands were buried in his hair, his head was down, and his back was arched forward, his shoulders slumped. A few hours ago he had been livid, but now, he looked so sad, it mimicked the way she felt. A new sense of guilt washed over her as her mind resurfaced the recent events…

* * *

**Seven****O'clock**

The two men had locked gazes and both refrained from moving, or from speaking, and Sarah was aware of them, aware of the battle about to be waged, but she was preoccupied. During this entire disaster there was still one person left unaccounted for: Carol. There was a knot tightening in her stomach and she forced herself to think, "Where's Carol?" she asked weakly.

"What?" Both men asked agitated.

Sarah began to panic and she grabbed a handful of Jareth's shirt, "Where's Carol? I haven't seen her! Where is she?"

Jareth sighed and removed Sarah's hands. He remained silent, but Addoyn spoke, "The red haired one?"

Sarah nodded and a short moment of sympathy flashed through Addoyn's eyes and Sarah cried out, a sob coming from her before she could fight it. "Where is she?" she repeated and Addoyn pointed, very detachedly, to the emptiness beneath the bed. Sarah scrambled to the floor and she spotted strands of red from behind the bed skirt. The knot in her stomach tightened and she began to lift the bed skirt, but strong hands lifted her off the ground and away from the scene, but she fought against it, "Let me go! I have to see, let me go!"

"Sarah," Jareth said softly, "you should not have to see such atrocities." He rubbed her arms and she allowed herself to be comforted for a moment, but then she pushed away and fell back to the ground, pulling the fabrics out of her way to reveal a horror. Under the bed, hidden from view, was the crumpled and bent body of her closest friend. Her stomach was doing flips by now and she did not fight against those arms that pulled her away from the sight. She closed her eyes and pressed her head against his chest, but the picture of her friend, eyes open in shock, still burned in her mind as the world around her faded away.

* * *

**Thirteen****O'clock**

She brushed a tear away and brought her knees to her chest as she fought a sob from escaping. Her friend, her friend was dead; and for nothing. Sarah rested her cheek on her knee and stared at the roaring fire and the dancing shadows created from the flames. Guilt; she felt so guilty. If only she had allowed Jareth to destroy the curse when Deirdre was a baby, perhaps none of his would be happening. And Deirdre…Sarah couldn't fight the tears as she thought of that beautiful baby girl…

* * *

**Eight****O'clock**

They were arguing in earnest now; fighting over a piece of paper that Sarah had yet to see. Nothing felt real, everything was slow and blurred. She watched the goblins scurrying around Addoyn and Jareth as they paced around the throne room, and she heard bits of pieces of their conversation. Mainly pieces when Jareth would yell at his father, accusing him for never telling him the truth, and Addoyn defended his position as best as he could with that small piece of paper, but Sarah could not focus on anything other than a goblin girl with long black hair, blue eyes, and a lighter skin than the rest. This goblin bounced and laughed and played along with the other stupid goblins and Sarah felt the tears streaming down her face.

"Did you _have_ to turn her into a goblin?" Her voice was hoarse, but it rang through the air and both Jareth and Addoyn turned to her, lost looks on their faces. She stood from the steps in a flurry and pointed down to the oblivious goblin chasing a chicken, "Did you HAVE to change her," she screamed and Jareth visibly winced.

With a sigh he rubbed his temples, "I have no control over it, Sarah. The labyrinth does it on its own accord." He was rewarded with a sneer from Sarah and Jareth turned the sneer to Addoyn, "Probably another perk from my mother, right?" he asked bitterly.

Addoyn nodded with a little too much nonchalance and they were yelling again. But Sarah just sat down on the steps to the throne and cried in her hands…

* * *

**Thirteen****O'clock**

She was still crying in her hands.

* * *

**Thirteen****O'clock**

Jareth heard Sarah wake, but he had no desire to face her right now, and so he kept his head down peering at the stupid "Prohicae" before him. No matter what angle he looked at it, it was still a ridiculous piece of parchment that offered no concise prophecy at all. It was just ramblings of an old man and Jareth shook his head. How could they buy into such a thing? They were smarter than that. Anger flared into his system. A few hours ago when he mentioned a parent it would have just been his mother, for a father was never mention. Oh, he assumed he had had one, but the father was not overly important in the Underground society and his mother had never bothered informing him of who is father was, nor had he really asked. And that bothered him now. Was he too ignorant to ask, or had he always known? Again his eyes drifted to the parchment before him and he wiped it off his desk.

* * *

**Seven****O'clock**

He was left standing wordless as he watched 'Temnestra', his cursed mother, disappear from the room, but not before uttering those words. They rang through his ears and shook his body and he looked to Addoyn; who, if possible, was whiter than he. Had Sarah's voice not caught his attention he was sure he would have lost control, but as such he focused on her and asked what she had said. To his utter surprise, she advanced on him and grabbing him by the shirt screamed for the whereabouts of the mortal woman, Carol. Oh, he knew where she was, but could not bring himself to speak, so he averted her gaze.

It was Addoyn who spoke, and Jareth narrowed his eyes as the man's voice cut through the room; cold, clear, and emotionless, "The red haired one?"

Jareth watched the exchange and watched with trepidation as Sarah dropped to the floor by the bed. He couldn't let her see what he was sensing under there, no one needed to see that. He pulled her back, though she fought against him. It did not matter though; he succeeded in bringing her away from the sight and he rubbed her arms. She had a broken look about her. Tears were forming in her eyes, but she kept them at bay by blinking. "Sarah, you should not have to see such atrocities." He thought by telling her it was unpleasant she would just accept it, but she pulled away from him, and with a sigh he realized she _needed_ to see. She _needed _to know it was not a dream, so reluctantly he watched her reach the bed.

When she fainted he had brought her to his room.

* * *

**Thirteen****O'clock**

With a small grin he realized she was again in his bed.

* * *

**Eight****O'clock**

Jareth paced in his throne room, the noisy goblins providing a much needed distraction, for his greatest impulse was to strangle the man before him. Addoyn, in all his haughtiness was lounging in the throne, a painful expression on his face.

"Listen, Jareth, Temnestra did not wish for you to know, and I respected that."

Jareth sneered, "Respected, or too afraid to argue?" He realized he was being a bit unfair; it was not like he had made any inquiries about his father. But he had always thought Temnestra had mated with some lower noble, someone of less stature than herself, never had it occurred to him consciously that the High Councilman would be his father. He stopped suddenly and grasped the pendant around his neck. Maybe he did, maybe he, of all the fools in the world, had taken this for granted. With a tug the chain snapped and he held the necklace out to Addoyn, not caring about the hurt in the older man's face. When Addoyn made no move to retrieve the pendant Jareth threw it as his feet, "It's yours, don't you want it back?" He was acting like a child, he realized that, but he honestly had nothing to fall back on.

He turned away and began pacing again. Sarah's form stumbled into the throne room and he watched her take a seat on the steps but said nothing to her, and she said nothing to him and that was fine. In fact, he was not sure if he wanted anyone to speak to him at all, but it was not a wish to be granted and when he turned back to the throne Addoyn had stood, his long robes draping the floor, and in his hand was a piece of paper, that, with a groan, Jareth recognized. He eyed it suspiciously and made no attempt to reach for it. "You have been trying to get me to read that my entire life, what is it?"

Addoyn shrugged, "Answers, of a sort." He extended his hand again and Jareth shook his head but grabbed the paper and began to read the "Prophicae". His eyes widened as he read the few stanzas and when he was done he stared into nothing. It was a riddle, a stupid, pointless riddle that may or may not have to do with anything at all. This was ridiculous. His eyes hardened and he stepped toward Addoyn, hand waving the paper in front of his face. "Tell me _this_" he spat at the paper, "is not what started it all?" Addoyn said nothing and Jareth turned away, hands thrown in the air, "This is nonsense. Are you telling me that my mother actually believes in this?" He turned back to Addoyn who was staring at floor. "Oh, don't tell me _you_ believe this as well?" When Addoyn remained silent Jareth leaned against a wall, suddenly very tired. "Both of my parents are imbeciles."

* * *

**Thirteen****O'clock**

Both of my parents…he thought silently to himself. Well, at least he had accepted it, for better or for worst, Addoyn was his father and Temnestra was his mother. His anger slowly left him as he thought about Addoyn. The old man had always been present in his life. When he had been on trial, Addoyn was fair and when he was sentenced the first time Jareth always felt he would have been given death; he wondered if that was Addoyn. When he was sentenced the second time Addoyn would not participate, and when he had nearly killed himself saving his subjects Addoyn had intervened. It was possible that Addoyn had been looking after him his whole life. When he had been presented to the council he bad been given his pendant, and at the thought his hand reached for it, but he paused as he remembered breaking it off in a fit. He missed the solid weight now, missed the feeling of the smooth metal against his chest, but with a sigh he pushed the thought out of his mind. Addoyn…Jareth's mind was spinning.

He pushed himself away from his desk and turned toward Sarah, who was crying softly in her hands. He was so weary, so tired. It was of no thought on his part that he found himself standing next to his bed, but now that he was there it was too inviting to leave. He sat on the soft mattress and pulled Sarah to him as he leaned back on the mountains of pillows he had to offer support. Her eyes were tear-stained and she was a bit surprised by his actions, but she made no attempt to pull away. In fact, he noticed with amusement, she snuggled against his chest; he could feel her tears through his shirt, but it was unimportant. Her breathing slowed and he caught a few remaining sobs as she drifted back to sleep and Jareth yawned. He was tired of fighting, tired of all this, but he would continue to fight; fight against a damned prophecy that made no sense, but he would not fight against sleep, not at this moment. He tightened his grip around Sarah and drifted off into slumber.

* * *

**Thirteen O'clock**

Addoyn sighed as he gazed at the empty throne room. The goblins, though not a very intelligent race, were prompt to retire at ten, and Jareth and Sarah had disappeared hours ago, leaving him to his solitude on the steps of the Goblin King's throne. All in all, he supposed it could have gone much worse. It was almost like Jareth had known, or at least he had accepted the facts well, but Addoyn was still called a coward by his son, and he had little defense for that. He had been a coward. All of Jareth's life he had stood in the back, watching as Temnestra raised him. He did not always agree with her methods, but she was his mother, and Underground law stated the mother had all the rights to the offspring, and he did not interfere. Rubbing his brow he thought about that law now. Maybe it was time for a change in domestic policy, for honestly, if there were more mothers like Temnestra it was going to be a very bleak future for his subjects.

With a sigh he picked up the discarded pendant and strolled his fingers along the symbols. It had been his pendant long ago, but the thought of taking it back brought a heavy pressure to his chest. The pendant was Jareth's now, even if in a fit of rage he had disowned it, it was still Jareth's. Absentmindedly, Addoyn picked the pendant from the floor and placed it safely in a pocket. No use leaving it on the floor; waiting for a goblin to destroy it, or it eat in their case. Addoyn walked behind the throne and with a wave of his hand the window reappeared and he peered onto the blackness. It was snowing again. The air was white as the wind kicked and stirred the snow around. Addoyn sighed, it was a beautiful sight; a beautiful and deadly sight, and he suddenly had a very bad feeling.

The curse had been strengthening on its own, but now matched with Temnestra's power…they may be safe for now, but it would not take Temnestra long to attack them. Not long at all. He paced the castle halls for the remainder of the night.

* * *

**A/N: Ta da! Well? Was it ok?**

**I want to thank you all again for reading my twisted little story. I'm proud of it, and I'm glad you are enjoying my insanity! Review now! Please! **


	14. As the World Falls

**A/N: I know everyone uses this title eventually, and even though its so cliché, I couldn't help myself; it's oh so catchy and actually fits this chapter.**

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Chapter 23

**As the World Falls**

Prophecies are overrated. It is a simple fact, and one that many could argue, but in the end, prophecies are overrated. The fates of all the living beings are tied together in an endless stream of paths: they criss, they cross, they double back occasionally, but rarely to these paths lead straight. It is this confusing trail that has led to the belief of prophecies, for in a world of endless twists and turns there needs to be order. Prophecies offer such an order but bundled in chaos. Never can a prophecy be simple and without trials, a prophecy leads to dilemmas so there can be a solution. A prophecy is merely a means to follow a road, a crooked road like any other, but a road with a determined purpose and a plausible destination.

But what of those that do not wish to follow a path already made? Perhaps the best course of action is to indeed create ones path and break away from the confines of a prophetical destiny. To be free is to be able to create your own path, your own life and not live a predetermined state of existence.

And then, this begs the question: If all _is_ predestined, are some predestined not to follow their original destiny? And if they do succeed in creating their own destiny, perhaps that was the destiny for them all along. Do not judge those who wish to live a truly individual life too harshly, for they may be the bravest of us all. For down _that_ path there are no signs, no guides, no one to lead. It is purely on faith that one dares to venture into the unknown and reject a life of paths with pointing arrows. After all, the paths are all linked, all tied together and there are endless options. So now, would you go left, or right?

Underground Mystic

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She had slept rather peacefully, as peacefully as one could when seeing horrid depictions of her best friend's demise, but whenever the dreams became too powerful she would hear a whisper in her ear. A whisper that carried a soft song like butterfly wings on the wind, and with that same breeze her dream would flit away leaving her with a serene calm. On the edge of wakefulness, Sarah could feel the soft comfort under her, could feel the arms wrapped around her, could smell him, touch him, hear him breathe, and she knew if she stayed still a while longer she could stay a little longer, and so she refused to open her eyes. But all things must come to an end as a clock struck the eighth hour she jumped from the bed, eyes wide. 

Jareth, who _had_ still been asleep, sat straight up; confused and rather irritated at the rude awakening. His anger fled though when he saw Sarah with a wild look on her face. "What ever is the matter?" He asked remaining in the large bed.

Running a finger through her hair, and attempting to straighten the wrinkles from her blouse and her skirt she scowled at him, "It's Tuesday! I have a class!" She was rewarded with a blank look from Jareth and she frowned, "You know, I teach! My students!" Her voice was rising and Jareth furrowed his brow, and then let out a bitter laugh.

"After all you've just seen and heard you're worried about missing a class?" He arched his brow at her and shook his head slowly. It was hard to believe she would still care about her life Above, especially with all that had happened. Was preparing for a class really more important than the impending doom of the world? His remark slowed her down and she reached out to the bed with a blind hand and sat clumsily.

"I thought…I don't know…it was such routine…I got up…" her voice started to crack. She had not thought about it, had thought of nothing except returning to work, returning to her life. Her life? Her life was gone, destroyed before her eyes. Carol was dead…Deirdre a misshapen goblin…the room spun and tears began to fall from her eyes. The only piece of comfort she had was mocking her pain and with a sob the tears flowed freely.

Jareth wanted to bite his tongue. It was early, he was grumpy, but he felt regret for his words and he pulled her close to him. "Stop Sarah, stop." He shushed her as she began to cry. "I did not mean it. If you wish to return, I will take you." With a finger he pushed her hair away from her face, "If it's any consolation to you, it is still early Above." He felt the tears drop slowly down her face and onto his chest, and he pulled away from her slightly and cupped her face in his hands. He really couldn't tell if it was just the morning and he hadn't fully woken yet, but before he could stop himself he placed small kisses on her eyelids and on her cheeks. "Don't cry," he whispered to her, and she threw her arms around him and buried her face against his neck.

She was still clutching him tight, and probably would not have realized the change in scenery had an icy blast of air not blown past her. In shock she pulled away from Jareth and stood very, very still. All around her was white. The snow was literally coating everything in sight. And though there was an occasional breeze, the majority of snow fell straight down, coating the surroundings with an eerie blanket. She turned to Jareth, who looked as confused as she. "Where are we?" She asked as her teeth began to chatter. Again she looked around and saw nothing recognizable. All she saw was snow.

Jareth approached her and draped a leather jacket over her arms and shrugged as he surveyed their surroundings as well. "I pulled the destination from your mind, Sarah. You wished to go here," he said gesturing the white emptiness, ""here" is where we are."

Shaking her head and furrowing her brow she pulled the jacket closer to her, "I wished to go to the school, not to a field of snow." Jareth's face remained impassive and realization dawned on her and she squeaked, "Are you telling me the school is _under_ this?" Again Jareth just shrugged and caught a snowflake in his gloved hand. "It's possible."

The world was spinning around her, all she saw was white. Was she standing, sitting, lying down; she had no idea, for all around her was the same sight. She reached out to Jareth, "I think I need to sit down." Instantly she felt solid wood beneath her and she leaned against the chair. She knew this room, it was the goblin's dining room, and she let her head fall to the table. "This is bad, isn't it?" Jareth didn't reply, but she watched as he paced around the room with his arms behind his back. He had changed during the transportation, for he was dressed in all blacks. The only time she had seen him wear anything like it was in the Escher Room; this was not a good sign. With a bit of amusement she realized she was wearing different clothes as well. She touched the cashmere sweater and smiled. These were the clothes she had picked out the day before. A yellow sweater and a pair of brown slacks…it seemed so long ago. "Jareth, what are we going to do?" she asked to distract her own thoughts. It was better to focus on the problem at hand, and not on something she could not alter.

A crystal formed in his hand and he idly twirled it between his hands as he continued to pace. "I don't know," he said agitated.

Sarah sighed, "The curse still needs to be destroyed…and soon, look what they did to the Aboveground."

The crystal dropped and shattered on the floor. Jareth stood still, back towards her, head slightly lowered. "I don't know if I can kill my own mother," he whispered softly.

Before Sarah could speak, a very familiar, if unwanted, voice echoed through the cold, stone room, "You had better get over that, for Temnestra will not hesitate in destroying you." Addoyn stepped from the shadows and Sarah was amazed to see him in solid black robes. The color seemed predominate in this family and Sarah casually wondered in any of them realized that.

Jareth tensed, but did not turn towards the man. "You should not be here," he said with clinched teeth.

Addoyn smiled to Sarah and sat next to her, resting his hands on the table, "On the contrary, I have no place else to be. You are going to need my help, whether or not you want to admit it," he added as Jareth spun around, a death gaze in his eyes. With a flourish Addoyn produced the pendant and slid it across the table towards his estranged son. At first, Addoyn thought Jareth would allow it to slide off the table, but at the last possible second he snatched it and held it before him.

The pendant rested securely in Jareth's hand and he stared at it for a moment before placing it around his neck and positioned it slightly to rest on his chest. Addoyn held a smug look and Jareth sighed, "Thank you." Addoyn just nodded and Jareth sat across from them, leaning back in his chair as he was oft to do. Together they sat in silence for a few moments, until Sarah's stomach began to grumble. It was not very loud, but the absence of noise amplified the sound and she blushed.

"Sorry, I haven't had anything to eat…" her voice trailed off as she couldn't remember the last meal she had eaten and her stomach rumbled its complaint again.

Jareth laughed a shallow bitter laugh, "Well then, let us eat, and speak on our plans." With nimble fingers he plucked a crystal from the air and rolled it down the table, where, once in the middle, it popped and exploded with glitter. As the glitter settled the table was covered with different platters and Sarah's mouth began to water. Addoyn reached for a croissant near him and laughed, "Well, done, Jareth, well done."

Jareth bit back a remark. He was in no mood for compliments from Addoyn, especially Addoyn. Though the High Councilman had explained his actions, Jareth was still very upset at his "father". He cringed at the sound of that title. Addoyn did _not_ deserve to be called a father, not of as yet. The warm food smells soon outweighed his anger and he pulled a steaming stew to his side of the table.

Sarah was munching happily on a piece of toast, and it was she who first spoke, "What can we do to prepare?" Both men turned their gazes to her and she scowled at them. Did they always forget she was in the room? Every time she spoke they looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. Sarah stifled a laugh as both Addoyn and Jareth began to drum their fingers on the table, the exact same behaviorism, and when Jareth noticed this he instantly stopped and averted his gaze away from Addoyn.

Addoyn just smiled and his eyes twinkled. So, Jareth was more like him than either would probably like to admit and this amused him, but Sarah's question was serious and he darkened his stare. "The castle is warded already, yes?" Jareth nodded, but still refused to meet Addoyn's gaze, "And Sarah as well?" Again Jareth nodded. Addoyn sat back and tapped his nose as he thought. "I suppose we wait."

"Not exactly the answer I was looking for," Jareth growled.

"And what would you suggest," Addoyn retorted and Sarah was surprised to hear the edge in his voice. It was just daring Jareth to defy him, it dared _anyone_ to defy him and Sarah could understand why he would be such an effective politician. "I can't trace her, can you?" He asked bitterly and when Jareth remained silent Addoyn continued, "No? Well, it might be difficult to defeat that which we can't find."

"Then what do we do?" Sarah asked timidly trying to break apart the tension. Again both men stared at her and she sighed, rubbing her temples. She was about to speak again, but a far off rumble caught all their attention. There was a whistling and again a rumble, though this time it was closer and caused a small vibration through the castle.

Jareth sucked in his breath and willed a window to appear. Again the same whistling, the same rumble, but all that was seen was a white blizzard before their eyes. A flash of brown flew by the window, accompanied by the whistle and a shoot downward of a solid object at a sharp angle, followed by a crash at the base of the castle and another vibration. Jareth nearly ran to the window, followed closely by Addoyn, but Sarah stayed a few feet behind. She was fairly sure she didn't want to see the view.

And she was right. The sky was raining boulders down, yet there were no source. A large rock just appeared and hurled itself towards the labyrinth and towards the castle, but so far, none of the rocks had actually impacted the castle walls; the barrier reflecting the blows, but Sarah wondered how long that would last. At first the rocks were sporadic, but now it was seriously raining, and some of the larger boulders caused the castle to shake so violently pieces of the ceiling would fall and clatter to the stony floor. This caused Jareth to return his gaze outward. These rocks, gifts from his mother, he assumed, were doing serious damage to his labyrinth and he reached out with his magic to offer some protection, but Addoyn put a hand up.

"You can't Jareth." He said stalling the king's spell.

"Oh I can't?" Jareth asked evilly as he stepped closer to Addoyn. How dare this man try to keep him from protecting that which belongs to him.

Addoyn merely shook his head, "Don't waste your energy on it, that's what she wants. Jareth opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as he realized the truth in the man's words. In frustration he pounded a fist against the wall. Again the castle shook, but it was a different shake, the castle actually felt like it moved and Sarah looked around in fear. If this kept up the entire castle would un-doubtfully fall.

"We need to leave, now" Addoyn commanded and began walking away from the window, but paused as Jareth's stubborn form remained stoically still. "Jareth!" Addoyn barked and Jareth turned slowly towards him, a very determined gaze set in his eyes.

"I'm not leaving." He said forcefully and Addoyn shook his head.

"You'll just waste time and energy protecting this place." Addoyn approached Jareth, "It _will_ fall."

Jareth's lips turned to a sneer, "Now why the concern, Addoyn? You are free to leave. You need not stay with me." He nodded his head towards Sarah, who was watching the exchange with trepidation, "Take Sarah and leave me be."

Addoyn was tempted to do as the foolish king asked, but when he searched out Sarah, her face was set and her eyes were locked on Jareth. He had the sneaking suspicion that she would not be persuaded so easily, and his suspicions were confirmed as she spoke.

"I'm not leaving either. I have no where else to go, and I'm not leaving you."

Jareth just gave her a small smile and turned his head back to the invasion. It took concentration to keep the barrier up, concentration and energy, but he would be damned if he allowed Temnestra the satisfaction of brining his world down upon him without a fight.

Addoyn just sighed and sat at the table, which he cleared with a wave of a hand. "Fine. If you two are staying I will stay as well." Jareth gave Addoyn a backwards glance that echoed a small surprise and Addoyn just grinned, "Someone needs to be here that can think properly." Sarah gave a sympathetic glance towards Jareth and Addoyn rested back in the chair. This was going to be a very painful battle.

Hours passed and the storm of boulders continued the onslaught of the labyrinth and the castle in the center. The goblins were worried and occasionally filtered into the dining room to gain comfort from their king. Jareth would reassure them and send them along their way. He would smile and tell them to play their games in the lower castle rooms. He was so sincere, the goblins believed in him fully and they did as he said without second thought. What they did not see was the weakening king before them. Each hit against the castle barrier drained his energy as he fought to sustain the protection. The only protection left. But he was getting weaker and Addoyn paced slowly behind his son. If they did not do something soon Jareth was going to be too weak to stand.

Sarah noted Jareth's gleaming skin, noticed the weariness in his eyes; he did not even try to hide it. She saw each time a boulder struck the accompanying shudder from Jareth. He was walking slower too, not pacing nearly as fast as he had, and on occasion he would stumble. And Sarah realized the predicament. If he chose to leave the castle his subjects would be doomed by the raining rocks, but if he chose to stay, they would all die. She sighed and walked over to the window. The labyrinth was flat, craters replaced everything, the depressions were quickly filled with snow and Sarah shuddered as another boulder raced towards the castle. It was so close, she thought it would hit and she backed up in anticipation, but at the last minute, a struggling king deflected the blow, but in return, Jareth dropped to his knees and leaned forward on his hands as spots danced before his eyes.

Addoyn growled and bent over his rasping son, "That's enough. You can't save this place Jareth. You'll just get yourself killed." He tried to help Jareth to his feet, but Jareth pushed the helping hands away.

"Get out here." He said struggling to his feet, "Take Sarah and get out of here. If my mother wants my death, she can have it." There was a defeated resolution in his stance and in his tone and Sarah nearly screamed.

"Are you kidding!" Her eyes flashed in anger, "Don't you dare try to sacrifice yourself now!" She walked to him, trying to meet his eyes, but he averted her gaze. He looked so sick standing there. His hair was plastered against his moist skin; his skin itself was so pale he looked like an apparition. Fear crept into her system. Maybe he was an apparition, maybe he had already left. That terrified her. She reached out and brushed his hair out of his face and smiled. "You can't quit on us. You aren't the only one who has suffered now!" She swallowed, "You can't quit on _me_." His eyes met hers at that and he smiled softly, so wearily. With a very painful motion he nodded to her and held her hand in his.

He should have been paying attention, though. For he never saw the boulder screaming through the air, positioned to directly hit the weakened castle barrier; determined to wreck the stone walls that protected a doomed king. The impact threw them all off their feet. The stone walls imploded on them, blasting the stone with pieces of the heated rock into the room. Addoyn deflected the larger pieces, but he was struck on his shoulder and he dropped in pain, in shock at the feeling. It was rare for him to feel physical pain and he gasped slightly. The debris continued to fall on his head and he watched as Sarah was thrown from Jareth's arms as another boulder crashed into the side of the castle. Her spell must have weakened as well for he heard Jareth shout as a large stone smacked into her side and she rolled to the floor. The entire castle was shaking. The goblin's screams were heard from below, and all that remained standing was the king.

Addoyn knew what Jareth was going to do before Jareth knew himself. Addoyn saw the magic forming on Jareth's lips. He was going to strengthen the barrier with the last of his reserves, but _that_ Addoyn could not allow. If Jareth used anymore magic he would be left in a worse state than now. He had to act quickly, and he prayed that Jareth would forgive him. Addoyn focused his magic and pulled Jareth and Sarah, as well as himself, and transported them as far as he could before dropping the spell.

Before Jareth could reinforce the barrier walls, he felt his body ripped from the spot he stood and thrown away from the castle. It was an odd sensation to stand on the outside of the damage, but he was there, nonetheless, on a hill that overlooked the entrance to his labyrinth. He watched as the boulders continued their unmerciful onslaught on his castle. He watched as the foundation of stone broke and crumbled to the ground in a large cloud of stone, snow, and raining rocks. He heard the goblins screaming to him, he heard it in his mind, and suddenly they were quiet. A few whimpers remained, but they too passed after a few seconds. As if their purpose was served, the boulders simply vanished revealing the destruction. It was gone…his castle, his labyrinth, all that he had known was gone. There was an emptiness growing in him, a void where he wanted to crawl in and disappear, but that could not be allowed. His mother had gone too far now. Jareth allowed his thoughts to focus. He had been transported away from the castle, but _he_ had not done it. He looked down to his feet and saw Addoyn sitting on a rock, cradling an arm close to his chest.

Suddenly very angry, Jareth rounded on Addoyn and lifted the man in the air by his collar. "You had no right to interfere."

To his utter dismay, Addoyn laughed. How many times had Temnestra accused him of the same thing? "What would you have me do? _Let_ you die of your own stubbornness?" Addoyn pulled away from Jareth and he continued softly, "I would not allow Temnestra to kill you before; I will not allow her to do so now." He shook his head and sat again on the rock, eyes falling on the desolate scene of destruction before him.

Jareth shook his head. There was something missing, something was not right. He glanced around the hill, noting the dead tree and shuddered. There was no one else…no one but Addoyn and himself. "Addoyn," the fear in his voice was evident and Addoyn turned curiously towards his son. "Addoyn, where is Sarah?"

Addoyn whipped his head around searching for the mortal, but held his breath as her form did not appear. He held his hands out defensively as Jareth turned towards him, murder in his eyes. "I brought her, Jareth. I swear on my life I brought her."

Jareth stilled; it was not taken lightly when one swore on their immortal lives, and he believed Addoyn, for if nothing else he _needed_ to believe. That left one very important question unanswered: Where was Sarah?

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**A/N: Heeehee laughs evilly. That's where I'm ending it for now. I can't wait to see what you guys thought of this chapter, and speaking of you, my reviewers, let's do a thank you session!**

**Moonjava: Thank you very much for continuing to read and review.**

**Morrigana: If you do not update soon! So help me! You're support means the world to me and thank you so much.**

**Shavaineth: lol…you are too much. And I usually don't like the disjointed feel either, but you were right, the characters had too much going on and the chapter needed to reflect that, as for Temnestra…well, I've kept you in the dark because they don't know yet either, but its coming, I promise…can't you just feel it? We're getting closer!**

**Alorindanya: Yes, I know. It was regretful that Carol and Deirdre were casualties, but did you expect any less from Temnestra?**

**Jumping-jo: Yes, Temnestra has definitely gone off the deep end!**

**Theshadowcat: Keep reviewing and I keep updating!**

**Until next chapter minna!**


	15. The Tangled Webs of Destiny

**A/N: Well, here's the next chapter…don't shoot me, k?**

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Chapter 24

The Tangled Webs of Destiny

It was rather difficult for Sarah to concentrate on anything. The crash of stone had startled her, and when she was thrown to the ground she was utterly confused. A sharp pain in her side made her double over and she could taste blood in her mouth. The whole castle wobbled before her eyes and she wondered if it was she, or in fact the castle moving. Trying to stand, the pain in her side was so immense she fell to a heap, heaving. Was this how she was meant to die? She never thought it could be so, but the walls were collapsing around her, the rocks were crashing upon her and it seemed that perhaps she would die here. All she could do was stare at Jareth. Would she see him again? She hoped so, and under better circumstances. Her chest ached at the thought of not being near him, and she held her side tightly and prepared for the last stone to fall, literally.

Abruptly she was pulled from her position, like being tethered to a string through her stomach. She followed the lead and gave a small gasp as another tug pulled her far away. Her body was spinning towards something, she did not know where she was going, or even what was going on, and the world was just a blur of colors that swirled dizzyingly around her. It stopped suddenly and she found her self lying on a cold floor. Her knotted stomach released the contents of her brunch on the marbled tile beneath her and she back away rapidly, cringing as her side ached. A fluty laugh, echoed by a much darker one attracted her attention, and still on the floor she lifted her head to find the source.

Before her stood Temnestra, but not Temnestra alone; a doppelganger followed a step behind, a second slower in motions than the true Temnestra. And though Temnestra's eyes never looked anything but cruel, the doppelganger's eyes shone the obsidian black of the curse. Instead of Temnestra's blonde hair, the echo had black. Together they circled her and Sarah felt very afraid, more afraid than before, for now she had no protection at all, and she was injured.

Temnestra grinned and the doppelganger mimicked the cruel gesture. "Very nice to see you again," Temnestra said lightly as the curse's multi range voice echoed, "again," a split second later. Sarah tried to sit up straight, but her side prevented her from accomplishing it, and Temnestra laughed, bending down low to peer into Sarah's eyes. "Hurt my dear?" "My dear?" she asked pulling Sarah's hair away from her face. They laughed as Sarah shook her head and backed a few feet away from them.

"Where am I?" Sarah asked noting the elaborate decorations of this room. The walls were a superior white, the floors were shining marble, and there were pillars in each corner. A mahogany desk rested against a wall and there was a fireplace, bookshelves, but nothing else to give her any clue as to where she was. Temnestra pointedly ignored her question and began circling again, getting ever closer with each pass. With a shuddered breath, Sarah tried a different approach, "Why are you doing this?"

Temnestra paused, but the curse continued a few feet before reluctantly stopping. With icy cold hands, Temnestra gripped Sarah's chin, fingers digging into her skin and causing her to flinch. "What do you know of anything, child?"

Tears began to well in her eyes at the forceful touch, but Sarah blinked and kept them at bay. "The prophecy I know. Jareth showed it to me…I think it's ridiculous."

Temnestra laughed and released her hold on the girl's face, and turned as if she were walking off, but spun and backhanded Sarah on the cheek. The doppelganger, who Sarah thought merely an illusion, followed suit and Sarah was struck again, leaving her dazed on the floor. Bending down to Sarah's shuddering form, Temnestra whispered sweetly, "You know nothing of destinies. You do not know the feeling of being destroyed by your own son."

Sarah spat out without thinking, "And neither do you," she was rewarded with swift twin slaps, but she continued anyway, the pain was so strong she was becoming numb, and if she was going to die she was going to get some things off her mind. "Jareth has done _nothing_ to you, except love you, why do you think he would destroy you." She was expecting another assault, and was terrified as Temnestra stood; the curse as well, and both glared down at her.

"I asked the magic long ago, and it showed me the path." Temnestra's eyes softened, just slightly, and Sarah swallowed.

"And now? What does the magic say now?"

"I do not ask it." Temnestra replied, eyes narrowing and fists clinching at her side.

"Then, how do you know you haven't changed destiny already?" Sarah pulled her frazzled thoughts together and bit back the pain digging into her side and stinging her face. "Maybe, maybe none of this is necessary."

Temnestra stepped away from the curse, and the curse stayed behind, and Sarah's eyes widened as Temnestra bent down to whisper in her ear, "Perhaps not, young Sarah, but what is said is said. This is the path I have chosen, and I will see it to the end." Once said, Temnestra stepped back and the curse resumed its mimicry. "Do you have any last words, Sarah, before we end this?" "End this?"

Sarah nodded vehemently as Temnestra's hands wrapped around her neck. The doppelganger seemed to wait to hear these last words, for its face was piqued with curiosity. Knowing this very well may be her last moments; Sarah took a deep breath and screamed _his_ name. She saw the distaste on Temnestra's face, and the utter excitement on the doppelganger's before her world went black in a twist of darkness.

Temnestra watched as the mortal's body crumpled to the floor. A twinge of regret was all she felt. Perhaps the girl was right, perhaps she _had_ taken this too far, but the dark whispers in her mind soothed her fears. The prophecy needed Jareth destroyed to be fulfilled, and not just Jareth, the voice told her, everything he lived for, anything that gave him joy, otherwise it would be a hallow victory. For a moment, Temnestra thought back to her son, her bright eyed boy with his golden hair; she had loved him once, perhaps she loved him still, but the voice in her mind was persuasive: Jareth was the enemy. She would have no power if he was allowed to live, no power at all. And that was unacceptable. Her hand sneaked out to question the magic, but the curse held it still. There was no reason to ask the magic for the truth, for the truth was before her. Jareth must die. Temnestra nodded her head and dropped her hands to her side. Jareth must die. There were preparations to be made, for he would come soon, and they must be ready, for Jareth will die.

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He saw her last moments as she screamed his name. He saw the satisfied gleam in his mother's eyes and he felt Sarah falling, leaving him. He must have screamed, but he heard nothing save a cruel laugh. Seeing Sarah's body, lying still at the feet of his mother broke him and he lost the will to live. Any reasons for living vanished as he saw the life dim and fade from Sarah's emerald eyes. He was the last thing she called for, the last thing she said, and he had not been able to save her. He had not been able to protect anything. All of this destruction for his life; _his life_. Was it really that important to him now? If he just quit _being _perhaps everything would right itself, perhaps she would be alright. Already he was dying, maybe if he just stopped… If it wasn't for the commanding voice in his head he doubted he would have taken another breath, but he fought for air and when he opened his eyes he was laying in snow, face towards the sky. 

He did not want to move, did not want to do anything. It was very unfair, and he realized he had mocked Sarah once long ago for saying the same, but maybe there was merit in the sentiment this time. He felt like he was fading again, it was easier to just fade then to deal with his life at this moment. There was nothing left to it anyway. No mother, no kingdom, no…love? Did he love Sarah? He thought back to her dazzling green eyes, her ebony hair, her laugh, her humor, her logic. Of course he loved her. Hell, even that ancient little red book had stated as much, and he idly wondered if that was just another part of his destiny. It figured he would find a love and have it ripped away from him by his mother. There was nothing…save a pair of blue eyes that searched his own, a man yelling at him, trying to get his attention. The world was on mute; however, for he could not hear, or maybe, he did not want to hear. The man was persistent and Jareth began to react to the voice.

He narrowed his eyes and the man's face come into focus, as did his voice as it was frantically yelling his name. This man, this man stayed by him. Was it enough? "Addoyn?" He was startled when the usually composed councilman clutched him tightly in a shattering embrace. In shock, he allowed the contact to continue for a few moments more before brushing the man's hands off, "Alright, alright, that's enough." He said accepting Addoyn's hand as he stood from the ground, feeling a new determination.

"Don't do that again, Jareth," Addoyn said standing a few feet away from his son. He had honestly never been scared before, never had he felt such terror as when he witnessed his only son blink in and out of existence before his own eyes.

Jareth noticed the quiver in the older man's voice and nodded solemnly. "She killed Sarah," he said quietly and comprehension crossed Addoyn's face and then was quickly replaced with anger. Jareth continued, "I saw where they were, and you will _not_ believe the gall of that woman."

Addoyn couldn't help the small smirk that crossed his lips. He, better than anyone, knew what Temnestra was capable. "Try me." He said dryly.

"She's at Mayair." Jareth waited for a reaction and was amused when Addoyn shook his head slightly, "That sounds like her. Where is she?" It was Jareth's turn to look amused, "She's in your chambers." Sighing and bringing his hand up to his temple, Addoyn gave a scowl. "Yes, that sounds like her indeed."

Jareth turned and began to transport himself, but Addoyn grabbed his arm. Nearly losing his son had made him realize, there should be no more secrets, not from Jareth. "Jareth, that prophecy…"

Jareth frowned, "I don't want to talk about it right now, Addoyn."

Smiling, Addoyn sat on the rock and looked casually up at the grey, cloud covered sky. "Temnestra is wrong about the meaning."

"I think you're both wrong for believing in it." Jareth retorted, but leaned against the tree, his curiosity aroused.

Taking a deep breath Addoyn began, "Jareth, when that prophecy was given to us, you had just been born. Temnestra was beyond thrilled; she took you everywhere with her and showed you off, and I was never far behind, for despite what you think, I was proud of you as well. Most of the council knew I had fathered you, but remained silent for their own good.

"See," he said taking another deep breath, "the Underground was shattered then. There were so many factions it was hard to keep track and each desired _my_ head on a platter. But I would not allow it, and after that prophecy appeared everything changed. Temnestra deciphered it in her own selfish way. That was when she distanced us, but I allowed it because it offered you a sort of protection from my enemies." He saw Jareth's brows rise at this and smiled, "Never thought I'd actually have a reason for stepping aside, did you?" He chuckled lightly as Jareth glared. "Soon, though, your own mother became a more deadly enemy than anything my enemies could offer. She tried endlessly to arrange "accidents" and she was never too clever about it and I was always able to prevent you from falling down a flight of stairs, being run over by a cart, or even being left in the middle of a forest to fend for yourself.

"You don't remember these, do you?" Jareth shook his head and Addoyn continued, "I didn't expect you to. Her most clever plot, however, made you a king. I don't think she planned it that way. I always suspected she had something to do with the killing of that mortal child, but you were so damned stubborn, you never asked for my help…"

Jareth interrupted briskly, "You never offered, either."

Addoyn shot Jareth an impatient look and continued, "She wanted you dead. She petitioned every council member and actually persuaded them to sentence you thus, and I think that was the only time I _ever_ overruled her." He looked as Jareth watched the story, greedily absorbing the knowledge. "I decided to banish you here. I foolishly thought that if I took you away from Mayair Temnestra would be satisfied; she would drop her obsession with destroying you." He paused, "Well, we both know how that turned out."

Clicking his tongue, Jareth strolled over to the rock and sat beside Addoyn. "And what of the prophecy?" he asked slowly.

"All Temnestra focused on was the last part of the Prophicae:

Yet should the dark fall

By the sun's own hand

The kingdom transferred

By love to the mother

"She was obsessed with power, this seemed a way to become more powerful than I, but she neglected the first part of the prophecy. A parent must fall, Jareth, a parent with a vast empire, who does this refer to?"

Jareth clinched his fists tightly and squeezed his eyes shut. "Addoyn, please don't tell me that you knew of this and never informed her."

"No, I told her, I tried to continue telling her that she had nothing to fear, she would not listen."

"At this moment," Jareth said standing and facing Addoyn with blazing anger in his mismatched eyes, "I can imagine a few ways how that "parent" would fall." He spat.

Addoyn grinned, "I'm sure you could."

"You could have prevented this," Jareth said accusingly and began pacing, his boots creating a dip in the snow.

"Perhaps," Addoyn conceded, "But Temnestra was playing with her destiny; she was purposefully choosing paths belonging to others. Your future was not to look like this," he said gesturing the winter wasteland before them.

"What was my future?" Jareth asked stopping suddenly and facing Addoyn, who merely sighed and replied, "Nothing that will be now." He stood and ignored the sunken look on Jareth's face. "Let us end this. Are you ready, Jareth?"

Jareth's eyes hardened and he stood to his full height, slightly annoyed that he was still a few inches shorter than Addoyn. "I am."

Addoyn nodded, "Good." They vanished from the spot, but not before Addoyn took a last glance at the Labyrinth. It was a ruin now, ancient and decrepit, he felt he could relate. This was not to be the future at all; none of their paths were suppose to end here, and with a sigh he turned his gaze and followed his son to a final confrontation.

* * *

**A/N: Well, no one said this was going to be a happy story, right? Only a few more chapters I think, but don't worry, you guys are going to like the ending, I PROMISE! ...gulp... well, let's hear what you have to say…**


	16. And the Strings Snap

**A/N: Alrighty. So, my piano has sticky keys! That is one reason why this has taken me a little longer to spit out. I couldn't play music to find my story! Anyway, this isn't the last chapter, but I think the next one will be. Please enjoy!**

**Oh! And Shavaineth! You may want that Kleenex handy!**

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Chapter 25

**And the Strings Snap**

Jareth would not have thought it possible to be attacked during transportation; he had never allowed the thought to enter his mind, but as he neared Mayair, cold, icy hands grasped his neck and pulled him into the world. It was an onslaught that he was not prepared for. The hands tightly squeezed any air from his lungs and helped in producing spots before his eyes. It took a moment for his thoughts to focus and to actually acknowledge the attack, but when he did, he countered. In an outburst of energy, the hands were thrown from him and he was left to blink away the dots dancing in his sight to see his attacker. She stood, not far from him, lips in a sneer, black eyes unblinking, raven hair dropping to the floor. It was the spitting image of his mother, but it was not she, for he could see the true Temnestra on the sidelines, where, he noticed, she was accompanied by Addoyn. With a sigh, Jareth understood. This was his fight, his fight alone. He took a deep breath as the curse concentrated on a glowing orb in an outstretched hand. He was tired, he was tired and exhausted, but he would fight.

* * *

"Are you going to just watch?" Temnestra asked as Addoyn appeared beside her. His worry was allowing the lines of age to show, his skin had become pale, he looked _old_ and that thought brought a smile to her lips.

"No," replied Addoyn wearily, "I've come to keep an eye on you; this should be a fair fight."

She turned to him, shock apparent on her face. "Fairness, Addoyn? Really." She scowled and half watched as a ball of energy raced towards her son; she turned her head before she saw the consequences and met Addoyn's blue eyes. "What fairness? I have been _destined_," she spat the word, "to be destroyed by my only son, how is that fair?"

Addoyn's eyes softened and he pushed a strand of hair away from Temnestra's narrow face, "You always were selfish." He grinned as she glared but made no move to back away, "Who says this has anything to do with you?"

"I do." She replied haughtily.

"Ah, yes, but you see, Love, that is where you are wrong." He grasped her arms tightly and spun her around so she would face her son's destruction. "Is that what you want? Is that what you _really_ want?" He felt her nod, but she did not voice her opinion and he sighed. This woman, this selfish, beautiful, insane woman held their destinies in the palm of her hand, and she was bent upon twisting the paths to fit her desire. That was never how it was to be, she was to allow the paths to form naturally, not clutch them to her and warp the destinations. "Temnestra, let go." She fought his hold suddenly, but he pressed her against him, "This is enough. Jareth will never bring himself to destroy you, and I cannot allow you to destroy him," he growled at her, "You've done enough damage to last both our lifetimes." As have I, he thought to himself.

She pushed away and spun to face him, thankful for the distraction as Jareth was stuck solidly in the chest with an extensive amount of energy. "I should not stop, Addoyn, and you have no power over what I can and cannot do, not anymore." A smile crossed his lips, a strange smile that made her flinch. She was afraid of him, she had never been afraid of him in her life, but right now, as he looked at her with that smile, and that certain glint in his eyes, she was afraid. "What are you going to do, Addoyn?"

"Something I should not have to do in this lifetime, but you," he said pointing at her, his white hand exposed from the black robes that matched his wife's, "you are determined to force my hand, and so I shall act." He paused as her eyes widened and her lips parted; she was afraid and he was glad for it. A grunt behind him made him turn his gaze from his cowering wife and focus on the battle waging behind him.

Jareth fought the curse. He was deflecting each blow, countering every spell, but he was not winning. He was merely holding it off. Addoyn realized with a sad sigh that Jareth, the powerful Goblin King, just did not have the strength to fight a fully empowered curse whose abilities were amplified by the very powerful and very warped Temnestra. The world slowed as Jareth slumped to the ground with another grunt. Nothing was as it should be. Addoyn had also peered into the future when the Prophicae was brought to them, but he had not seen this. He had seen Jareth in full power, on a High crown in a shining castle of white and rainbows. He would have been a great king. A new determination came over him and he tightened his fists: Jareth _will _be a great king.

No more thoughts came, no more regrets, no more hesitations, he turned lightning fast and spun towards Temnestra, whose eyes were glimmering as she watched the curse physically attack Jareth. She did not see Addoyn approach her, for he was just a blur of motion, and she did not see the blade in his hands until it was too late. The blade sliced through her robes and pressed through her skin and pierced her chest. She gasped lightly and fell to the floor, but was caught as Addoyn, hand still wrapped around the hilt, eased her down.

An ear piercing shriek shattered the silence and the doppelganger's form recoiled away from a wide eyed Jareth and appeared above Temnestra's limp body. The doppelganger clawed the air, her physical form diminishing as the extra power was drained from her as the blood drained from the host's body. Jareth followed with his eyes and with a small struggle, for his body had been badly battered; he stumbled over to where his mother lay bleeding. "What have you done, Addoyn?"

"Shh…" Addoyn hushed his son and bent down to where Temnestra's lips were moving, trying to speak. Her face was contorted and she tried to writhe under his hold, but the blade was through her, catching on the marble beneath her. Addoyn lowered his head to her mouth trying to catch her words.

"Have I done extreme wrong?" she breathed. The harsh look in her gaze was replaced by a pleading one; it begged to be understood.

"No Love, not for you," was Addoyn's response and he brushed his lips against her own. The woman looking scared at him now was not the same Temnestra that stood a few minutes ago gleeful at the idea of her son being destroyed. A sureness had strengthened her gaze; sanity had seeped in again and she looked a little lost at the predicament she had placed herself in. The doppelganger screamed again and Temnestra moved her eyes, sluggishly above her, "I did that, though, didn't I?" Addoyn nodded and Temnestra closed her eyes and convulsed. It took so much energy holding their destinies along this path, but this was not the path she saw. Addoyn had tricked her; had altered their paths again. She was about to accuse him so, but her heart shuddered and she was overcome by pain. It would not be long before she could not support her own life, should she even bother with theirs? "Addoyn?" She needed his advice, needed his support, and needed his love. She realized her son was there, she saw his eyes shining at her, but she turned away from him. "Addoyn?" Her sight was fading, her ears were ringing and she was feeling lightheaded from the pain.

Addoyn clutched her tight. Temnestra may have been destroying them all, he should for all reasons hate the woman, but spending centuries with her _very_ different he could not leave her to die alone, especially as his hand was covered in her blood. "Just let go, Temnestra." Her eyes sparkled at him, but they were fading in and out. She was very pale now and her breathing came out in gasps as she fought for air. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

"Everything will be alright?" She asked weakly as she watched the curse scream again in frustration. Addoyn nodded, "Yes, it will all go away," he told her with a smile. Temnestra forgot herself; she forgot this selfish and power starved creature she had become, she even forgot what had prompted her to become such; all she saw was blue eyes of a man she had known for so long, so long and each time he was near her it was hard to breathe. With a small nod she released the spell that had tethered their paths along her path, a path she had chosen without anyone's consent. A small sob escaped her lips as Addoyn twisted the blade into her heart.

* * *

Jareth saw the small flick of wrist, the sickening twist of the blade, and he watched as the curse dissipated as a breeze breaks apart the fog. The screaming continued for a few seconds and those awful eyes bore straight through him, but eventually it faded and left only them; a very broken sort of family. Jareth lowered his gaze as his father, who had finally earned the title, cradled the lifeless body of his mother. He was kissing her face and smoothing her hair and whispering words to her that Jareth could not and did not wish to hear. Addoyn tore the blade out of her and threw it across the room, mindless of the stains it was leaving on the marble floors. It landed very close to Sarah's body and Jareth shuddered and approached Addoyn. "And how is this all to end?"

Temnestra's body began to shimmer, in and out, and Addoyn watched as a streak of light shot out from her body and through the ceiling, and though he could not see it, he knew she had found a new home in the heavens. A few seconds past, and her body vanished, leaving him with a bloody hand and a wretched look in his eyes. He hoped she would look down on them fondly. There was humming around them, all around them brightness of light, and Jareth found himself standing very close to his father, a little in awe, and a little frightened. Addoyn rested a hand on Jareth's shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes. "She has released us all from our destinies, Jareth. Do not hate her for that." The room began to swim in the warm light and Jareth grasped Addoyn's arm. "And what shall happen, Addoyn?" He asked again.

Addoyn just laughed as the humming intensified and the white began to sting his eyes, "Jareth, would you know all the endings in the world?" He laughed again and motioned to the now spinning room, "This is our paths snapping back, trying to find a common ground. They were held captive for so long." He paused a second before looking far off, a strange sadness in his blue eyes, "How will this end, Jareth? I'm not sure, all I know is this is only one ending, and time is bending for us now, and she has done that for you." Jareth wanted to argue, he wanted to stay a moment longer, but the warm light soothed his fears and covered him in such an embrace that he seemed to forget everything. He closed his eyes and dreamed he saw a smiling brunette with dazzling green eyes that met his own. Would he see her again? The thought of being alive without her tore at his heart and he silently prayed death would take him rather than wake alone.

* * *

At first it was small splashes of light that teased his senses. With each spark he turned to follow the light, but it vanished before his eyes, but if he focused on nothing he could see the colors swirling around him; solidifying into shapes. He could feel the ground beneath his booted feet, he could hear a stream in the distance, he could feel the air upon his face and smell amazing things and in a blink his world came into focus. He was standing before a large fortress wall that spun off in either direction as far as the eye could see before bending inwards. He could see forms up on high, but could not see them clearly, and as he was looking up his breath caught in his throat. The sky was blue; a crystal clear vibrant shade of blue with clouds that danced across the warm sun. Was this real? Somehow a blue sky seemed foreign to his eyes. He brought his hand forward and squeezed it experimentally. He could feel, he could see, he could smell and hear, and he could _remember_. It flooded back to him; his mother, his father, his Sarah, his Labyrinth, even his ridiculous goblins, it came to him, but did not linger and he was left thinking it was a dream, a ridiculous dream, for he was no Goblin King. He was Jareth, High King.

A small laugh rang through his ears and he turned away from the walls. There, sitting languidly on a rock, sat a beautiful woman trailing her fingers through the rushing waters and playing with the small fish that nibbled at her fingertips. Her black hair fell down her back and cascaded to the soft green grass at her feet and a few strands dipped lazily on the blue waters. She was wearing a soft, white gown with billowing sleeves that were also getting wet, but she just smiled, her green eyes twinkling, and turned her head slightly, the sun glinting off her silver crown.

He approached her, "I think I dreamed of you last night," he said softly. Her eyes widened, "Really? What did you dream?" She asked with true curiosity. Jareth shook his head and caressed her cheek, "I'm not sure…I'm not sure I want to remember, either." She frowned as a dark shadow crossed her love's face and she brought her hand up and brushed it against his face. He smiled softly and kissed her palm as it passed by his lips.

"If it was so disagreeable, then let us forget it Jareth." She sounded so strong, his Sarah was so strong, and yet, he felt he had lost her only a few moments ago, and yet, a few minutes ago she had remained sleeping in his, no _their_ bed. He was confused and grabbed her tightly, lifting her from the rock and clutching her tightly to his chest. It confused her, no doubt, but he was confused too, there were too many images spinning in his head, images of her drowning, images of her crying out to him, and he not being able to save her. He held her tightly burying his face in her hair; ignoring the small protest she made. He needed her close; needed her to be near him.

"The memories will fade, in time." came a crisp voice that Jareth recognized. He snapped his gaze up and looked straight upon a man that he bore some resemblance to. Addoyn stood, hands clasped at back, brown robes swaying slightly in the breeze. He smiled at them, a true smile, but it did not touch his eyes. He did not look on them long, but instead turned his gaze towards the city behind the walls. "This is your kingdom, Jareth, do you understand?" Jareth shook his head and Addoyn sighed, "You have found your path; that is all that matters."

Sarah pushed lightly against Jareth, and he released her, knowing she would fight if he did not grant her freedom. She took a small step towards the familiar man in brown robes, confusion echoing in her shining eyes, "Addoyn?" She asked tentatively with a hand outstretched, like she was questioning a ghost. Her memories came back, but she fought against them, fought against them hard. She had never been Jareth's enemy; she had loved him the moment she had laid eyes on him; she was his queen, his love…had she died? She felt light-headed and the world gave a sickening lurch as she lost her footing, but strong hands held her tight and she clutched to his white shirt, pendant resting against her head. "This is all just a bad dream, right? A hallucination?" she asked aloud.

"Eventually, that is all it will be, Sarah. Just a dream," Addoyn nodded and straightened his back. He felt so old; he _was_ old, and he truly did not belong in this reality, but he had grabbed at his chance to speak to them again, and now he was here, in their world; a world that he must leave eventually. He walked to his son and smiled. "It was just a bad dream, Jareth." He leaned down to Sarah, who was hiding her face. "Go and look upon your kingdom," he stood and gestured towards the white walls before them. "It truly is wonderful." He wished to linger there with them, for a few moments at least and just drink in the sight of them. Jareth was holding her tightly to his chest, his blonde hair falling around his face and down his shoulders and stray strands wisped about in the breeze, his silver crown was also glistening in the sun, and Addoyn smiled. The son had his kingdom, the mother had his love, and he was obsolete. A bitter smile crossed his features and he turned away from them. He would not interfere again; it was no longer his world.

Together they watched him turn and walk away from them. They did not try to stop him, did not make any move towards the elder man, for one fact was undeniable: Addoyn, as he had appeared before them, did not belong in their world. Sarah clutched to Jareth tightly a moment longer and then stood straight, gaze focused on the walls before her. Her head was held eye, she was sure of herself as she approached the gates, followed closely by Jareth. As they neared, she heard voices shouting from above, "Open the gates for the King and Queen!" Before her eyes, two white walls opened and she was momentarily blinded as the sun reflected off the white brilliance.

She stood in awe. It was a city, a bustling city with merchants pulling carts and pushing mules. People were walking to and fro, in and out of solid shops, laughing and talking amongst themselves, but always pausing and acknowledging their presence by a small bow and a "Morning Highnesses" as if their presence in the city was of no surprise. And Sarah could believe that as she stepped into the city, suddenly surrounded by the throngs of people. Smiling and waving to her, bowing here and there and holding out their wares, "Try this, Highness, it is the softest silk in the world" "No Highness, you must smell these fragrances, they are truly the grandest". A small trace of smugness found its way into her mind and she thought satisfactory, if she wanted any of these things she could command them to give them to her, and they would obey without question. It was a wonderful sensation, but it frightened her and she turned suddenly, looking for her King. She found him leaning against a booth, talking with a small man with plants that lined the shelf. Turning her head away, her eyes fell upon a large castle a short distance away from them. The castle was white and sparkled in the early morn sun. The towers rose straight, striving for the sky, and her eyes lingered upon the tallest tower, a window with a ledge rested up there. It was not as if she could see the ledge, but she knew it was there, for she had sat up on that ledge several times in her life, looking at Mayair. The word washed upon her and she smiled, this was her home, her Mayair. She wished to be next Jareth, but as she turned he was there, smiling brilliantly. He was devastatingly handsome this morning, dressed in all white. He seemed ethereal as the breeze caught his hair and the soft fabrics of his shirt and pants. It was hard not to stare, but he held a small pot out to her and she curiously accepted it.

There was a small flower planted in the rich, brown soil and she looked up to Jareth expectantly. He gave her a smile and shrugged, "It is suppose to bloom a radiate green to match your eyes, or so that man says," he shrugged again, "I was curious to see the accuracy in such an account, for I think nothing can compare." It was sweet, and she smiled brightly up at him, but she knew he was being serious and without a second thought she brought her free hand to him and pulled him close in a kiss. With a laugh, she pulled away, "Come, Love, let's see what else the market holds for us today." Jareth laughed and placed her arm over his and they walked through the crowds, heads held high, thoughts about a different time and a different place fading as the sun reached high into the cerulean sky.

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**A/N: Let's here what you think…I may have left some things unanswered, if you have questions, please tell me and I will TRY to explain in the next chapter, for it's going to tie some loose strings anyway. But if I have to think too hard on it I may just ignore it ;) Now, time for thanks:**

**Moonjava: Thank you again**

**Morrigana: Let's see, I did this chapter for you, to show my gratitude for satisfying my thirst for GSTK. And actually, I hadn't planned on killing her. After I wrote it I screamed at myself, but it was too good to change it!**

**Shavaineth: Would you believe me if I told you I have no intentions of telling all of their secrets? Hmm…maybe I will eventually write a prequel…**

**Lady of the Labyrinth: Sheesh! Ease up on my heroine!**

**Jumping-jo: and what do you think of her now?**

**Theshadowcat: Did I meet your expectations, Kitty?**

**Satta: well? Is this how you pictured it?**


	17. Ah, But It's Only Love

**A/N: This is the last chapter.**

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Chapter 26

**Ah, But It's Only Love**

Sarah leaned against the ledge and looked upon the city as the crowd dispersed and the shops closed. The sun had set, the market was over, but she sat still upon the ledge and watched the people, her people, below her go about their lives. She looked up into the brilliant night sky and smiled as a warm breeze pushed back her curtain of hair. And on that same breeze a tinkling reached her ears and she frowned and leaned forward, into the wind. It was music, she could barely ascertain the notes, but they were there; filling the warm air with such sweetness. She scurried away from the ledge and searched the wide open chambers for the king, who she noticed by the fireplace.

He was leaning back in a chair, resting on the back two feet. One hand was carelessly drumming against the armrest and the other was holding a book as his feet were thrown up on a desk. "Jareth," she called him to attention, but he did not respond and she shook her head. He was often absorbed in some book or another; it was just part of him, but she wanted his attention and she repeated his name. Again, no response, and she stormed over to their bed and grabbed a fluffy pillow and chucked it him. The pillow struck him straight in the face and he began to fall backwards, the precarious balance broken, but unlike normal beings, he did not fall. He merely vanished and reappeared beside her, a scowl on his face.

"Was that absolutely necessary?" He asked a little gruffly while crossing his arms over his deep blue poet's shirt.

"Yes," Sarah replied pouting. "You were ignoring me, and…I wanted to show you something," before he could question her, she took his hand and dragged him to the window, pointing off in the distance.

Sighing and humoring his love, he stepped onto the ledge and peered into the night. At first, he felt rather ridiculous; there was nothing there. The few remaining people in the market were scattered and there was nothing else. He was about to turn to her in question when the faint music reached his ears. It floated on the breeze; an enchanting melody and he smiled.

"Do you know where it is coming from?" Sarah asked beside him and he nodded. "It is the Gahboleins." Sarah's face was blank and Jareth placed a soft kiss on her nose. "It is a group of nomads that travel through the kingdoms. They usually stay in the desert south of here around this time of year, but occasionally they venture forth into the forests around Mayair." He stopped talking and the music filtered into the room. Sarah kept her face towards the sound and Jareth smiled, "Would you like to go, Sarah?"

She spun towards him, a mixture of hope and surprise on her face, "They won't mind?"

Jareth gave her that knowing smirk and held out his hand to her, "No, they won't mind. They are nomads, but they are not unintelligent; they know I am the king."

All she had to do was accept his hand, and she did. Instantly, she was standing in a clearing, and the chaos around her was dizzying. Children ran amok everywhere she turned. There were young children of around two and then there were teenagers and the adults were gathered around a blazing bonfire in the middle of clearing where the music was predominating. No one was paying her any mind, in fact, she was not sure if she had even been noticed. "Jareth…" she began, but as she looked up he was not near her. He did that often and she frowned. At least he usually stayed within eye distance and she began looking for the king. If it had not been for the fact that he stood nearly a full foot taller than anyone, and his shining blonde hair added extra inches, she would not have found him talking to an old man. She recognized the body language; Jareth was talking to the leader of the tribe. A smile crossed her lips. He was handsome as he regally stood before the tribesman in blues and blacks. He laughed and Sarah's heart skipped a beat. He could always do that to her. Suddenly she wished to be near him, and as she made a step forward a tiny hand grabbed at hers and in surprise she whirled around, only to be met by the shining eyes of a little boy.

"Yes?" she asked bending down to the brown haired boy's eye level.

He squirmed and wouldn't meet her gaze, but finally he spoke, "You pretty lady."

Before Sarah could reply a cultured voice laughed from behind her. She did not jump though, for she knew that voice. A hand brushed against her cheek and she smiled as Jareth bent down before the boy as well, "She is very pretty, isn't she?" The boy nodded and Sarah blushed. Jareth laughed again, "Do you think the pretty lady can dance?" he asked as he stood, bringing Sarah up with him.

The boy nodded, but Sarah pulled away. "No way, Jareth! I can't dance and you know it!" He had been trying to teach her since she arrived Underground, but she had yet to go one dance, hell, sometimes she couldn't go a few steps, before she stepped on his foot.

He laughed again and reached for her hand, "I was thinking of eliminating the prospect of you stumbling," He told her secretly as if reading her mind and she looked at him suspiciously, but stepped towards him. She met his eyes and lost herself in their depths. It was so safe in his eyes, she could stare forever, however long that would be. She did not notice her feet lift from the ground, she did not notice weightlessness overcome her; all she could feel was his arms wrapped around her. The music stopped; however, and she noticed that. In surprise, she turned her gaze to look at the people, but gasped as they were all below. She clutched tightly to Jareth in fear and he tsked at her, "Do you not trust me?" he asked softly and Sarah instantly stepped away from him. She did trust him, and as she backed away, she did not fall; she merely floated in the air. He smirked at her and turned his attention back to the musicians.

The music began again. A small man near the fire began by clapping two spoons together. A woman next to him began drumming the bodhran in an upbeat tempo, like a heart beat. A fiddle player stood and began dancing as the a stream of notes from up and down the octaves left his fingers and soon he was accompanied by a tin whistle, and soon the entire camp was dancing and clapping and the chaos resumed, and they were all oblivious to the royalty above their heads.

Sarah smiled as the children mimicked the dances by the elders and she made no protest as Jareth grabbed her waist and spun her through the air. It was an odd sensation, how does one walk on air? But she was doing it. "Where did all these children come from, Jareth?" She asked as he twirled her in time with the music, somehow she could dance this dance, she was watching the children from the corner of her eye and she mimicked them, picking up the steps easily.

"They are orphans from Above," he said into her ear and the warm breath tickled her and set the hairs along her neck bristling. She opened her mouth to speak again, but he quickly covered her lips with his. It was intoxicating, all the tastes and sensations, and Sarah quickly forgot what she was asking and simply let him lead her through the sky.

* * *

The sun had set and the fingers of night spread through the light blue sky, darkening and tinting the colors with splashes of reds and oranges before deepening into the purples and black of midnight sky. The outcropping of trees reached far into the sky; brushing and painting the stars with every breeze, with every stir. It was peaceful in the wood. Small light bugs danced on the underbrush flickering in and out like candlelight. Addoyn allowed his fingers to graze a bush and he sighed. He had met his match in so many ways. As his world had begun to fade, he had grabbed tightly to Temnestra's broken thread; and his as well. It could not be time to relinquish her; she was all he had ever had. Crickets chirped nearby and Addoyn sighed again. Temnestra, for all her shortcomings, was his perfect match. She was able to thaw the ice around him and fill him with such warmth, even in times when they were arguing. A small smile tugged at his lips. It was only love, after all.

This world would not support him much longer. Already he felt the fabrics of time attempting to rip him from this reality; and that was fine. He did not belong. The whispers of his alternative self were heard in his head, and he knew he could not stay long or he would risk unsettling the balance once again. But, he had no where to go. And he wanted to remember for a while longer, so he held two strings tight to his heart battling with his indecision. He walked silently through the forest, his brown robes swishing against the path covered with leaves and twigs and soft, soft dirt; a fox scurried across the path but Addoyn paid it little heed.

A clearing had appeared. Just a small break in the canopy, and he could see the brilliant night sky; the twinkling stars, and he held back a tear. She was there, in those heavens. Even if her destiny changed, the stars forever hold the soul. She was there, in some form; his powerful Temnestra. She had controlled so many; had rearranged nearly all their lives, had become the Master of them all, but had she saved any? Oh, she released the spell and allowed time to flow freely, but was she a savior? He felt so empty, so lost. His body was weary of fighting; tired of holding his life together. Once, when they were so young, he had such hopes for them, but now, he was left to holding a fragile tie to a dead world. He had become a shadow, all for love.

Silently he sat on the wood floor and kept his eyes skyward. It was lonely in this world. It was full of faces of people he had known his whole life, but they could not know him and _should_ not know him, for he belonged elsewhere. Somewhere in a time that did not exist any longer, but he could not quite allow himself to leave. If…if he could just see her smile at him, once more. It would be worth it.

The stars, as if hearing his request, changed before his eyes. The twinkling light outlined a face, a beautiful face with flowing hair that shone with star dust. It filtered down to the ground like a moonbeam, and before his eyes was Temnestra. Not filled with hatred like he had seen her so often, but his Temnestra from long ago. She was all stars and sky, blue and blacks and glittering silver and he stood quickly to meet her. What could he say to her? He was frozen in between worlds, in between dreams, but it was only she he wanted. She said nothing, but her eyes met his and he felt weightless. She extended her hand, and at first, he was hesitant, but then she smiled at him. That smile melted his heart and all fear was lost. He reached for her, for his love, and let the strings fall.

* * *

Jareth paused as a shooting star streaked across the sky and he felt a deep pang in his chest, like his best friend had left him. It was a hollow feeling, a strange feeling, and he kept his eyes on the stars a moment longer, but dropped his gaze as a warm hand cupped his cheek.

"Jareth? Are you alright?" Sarah floated before him, concern shining in her green eyes.

Was he alright? He looked back at the sea of stars and was certain a new star graced the heavens. He furrowed his brows as a memory spoke to him, a memory of a man in brown robes and blue eyes that matched his own…his father? Shaking his head, he focused on the stars. His father was in the palace…but why…why did his heart ache as that star shot through the sky? Sarah voiced another concern, and Jareth turned to her and wrapped her in an embrace, the protectiveness from this morning returning to him. Upon her arms returning the gesture his fears disappeared. This was his life, his love before him. Any feelings of uncertainty drifted away as the music continued below them, and the star became a distant thought as he began to dance again with Sarah.

The air was full of sounds of laughter of music and heat and sweat, but one laugh outshone them all. It was a mortal's laugh, a mortal woman who was dancing upon the air, a mortal woman who still managed to step on her king's foot even in midair. Her laughter rang out and was accompanied by the king's and echoed by the Gahboleins dancing underfoot to a song that was filled with hope and love and energy as wild as the night wind that carried it away.

Fine

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**A/N: Well you guys, I know this was a bit untraditional, but Alorin had suggested that I do what I wanted, for it is my story, and I did. So, read my thanks to you:**

**Moonjava: Thank you so very much for continuing this story with me!**

**Shavaineth: Just because you see a few happy scenes doesn't necessarily mean they have had an easy life, or that they _will_ have an easy life. And true, it did change them, but who's to say they weren't to be this way originally? I hope this chapter answered a few questions. As for Carol and Deirdre, I'll just tell you. Carol has a newborn babe by a man who married her. ;) (Oh, and Addoyn's not a romantic? Riiiight.)**

**Satta: Thank you so much. I hope you enjoyed this last chapter, and I've always enjoyed stories that make you think, and I like to make my readers think as well; I'm glad it was stimulating for you.**

**Theshadowcat: Good, I'm glad I've made you happy.**

**Morrigana: You better keep writing! And, let's see…I may do a little epilogue, but I'm actually thinking of writing the new story of how they met. May be a while though, I want to try my hand out on something more traditional. But what can I say to you, huh? You know I love your reviews and thank you so much for sticking with this story.**

**Lady of the Labyrinth: (Noticed the spaces) You will like Sarah…you will like Sarah…lol. Thank you for reviewing and not abandoning me!**

**And to all others I may have missed: I treasure each and ever review so thank you very much.**


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